Infinity Cage (34 page)

‘What …? What’s the message?’

‘This is the concealed part of the message, Maddy. The part I –’

‘I know! I know! The bit you couldn’t say because the end condition wasn’t satisfied yet. So is that what just happened?’ Maddy pointed at the window. ‘Your sectioned-off brain has finally figured out that the Pandora Event has happened?’

‘No. I believe the message has just been changed.’ Her eyes narrowed as she tried to make sense of the subtle shift of data in her head. ‘We may have just experienced a very subtle time wave, Maddy. History has been altered. The document that will be known as the “Holy Grail” may just have been amended.’

‘Liam! Right? It’s got to be Liam!’

Becks met her eyes. ‘Yes … it must be.’

‘Well, tell me what the frikkin’ message is!’

She closed her eyes. Maddy could see eye movement dancing beneath the fine skin of her lids.

‘The wording is the same … except for a short sequence in the middle.’

‘Just say the damned thing!’

‘
Time is limited. Have found second transmitter. Tachyon beam shuts
down soon. After this, no more time displacement. You will be stuck. A choice to make, Maddy. Choose somewhere, or join us. Choose quickly. Little time. Our time-stamp data follows
 …’

‘Where are they? Are they back in London now?’

‘Negative.’ Becks silently processed the numbers. ‘They are still in Jerusalem in the first century.’

Maddy waited expectantly. ‘Is there any more?’

Becks opened her eyes. ‘That is all of it.’

‘Nothing else left locked away in your skull?’

She shook her head. ‘I have no more secrets now.’

‘But wait! We can’t just abandon the field office and shoot off to ancient Jerusalem!’

‘Our London field office has a shutdown protocol, Maddy. Remember?’

She mentally kicked herself; yes, of course, her parting instructions. If they didn’t get back, computer-Bob would make sure no one was going to make use of their displacement machine, or his AI.

‘We would not need to worry about the displacement machine falling into someone else’s hands anyway. It will not work.’

‘What?’

‘
No more time displacement
. Perhaps it means we have only been able to travel through time because of the force field created by the beacons?’

‘We’ve been riding on the back of it?’

Becks nodded. Maddy shot a glance at the wire cage of Waldstein’s displacement machine. ‘So, when the field shuts down, this machine, the one in London … they’re not going to work any more?’

‘I believe that is what Liam is saying.’

‘Then …’ She got the urgency now. They had to decide
what they were going to do: stay here, go back to London, join Liam or go elsewhere … and they had to decide quickly.

A choice to make, Maddy.
The message Liam had just sent was unequivocal, the word was right there … a
choice
. Not a call for help. Not an obligation … he said it. A choice.

Her choice.

‘Maddy? The message says we have to choose quickly.’

How quickly? Days? Hours? Minutes?

‘I don’t know … where the hell am I supposed to go?’

‘Do you wish to remain here?’ asked Becks.

‘No!’

‘London?’

She shook her head. ‘No … I don’t want to spend the rest of my days there.’

Becks cocked her head. ‘Are you considering another place that you would like to live your life?’

Maddy didn’t want to admit that, but … yes. She’d thought about this before. She had a particular place in mind, but it felt like a selfish choice. It felt irresponsible, a naive wish.

‘Recommendation: I should immediately activate Waldstein’s displacement machine. We will need some time to build up an energy store before we can go anywhere.’

‘Yes.’ Maddy nodded. ‘Yeah, you better get that started.’

Becks hurried through the gap in the bookshelf. Maddy heard her echoing footsteps down the short dark passage, then her clattering around in the lab beyond. She heard the electronic whine of energy being diverted. The lights in Waldstein’s office dimmed and flickered as power was drawn away from them.

I could go anywhere … couldn’t I? We’re all done now
.

Waldstein had told them their job was finished. Mission accomplished. And Liam … it’s not like he’d said, ‘
I
need
you here
.’ It’s not like he was saying, ‘Please help me.’ In fact, in the
few words he’d used, it had sounded just a little bit like a goodbye. It had sounded to her like:
Great working with you. Have a good life
. As if he was telling her he’d got things covered. And …

I could … I
can
 … go anywhere I want
.

She could hear the surging whine of energy building up in the lab.

Decision time. One shot. One chance. No take-backs. No second chances. Where I choose to go, I’m going to be there for the rest of my life.

So maybe this was finally it: her chance to live a normal life. Surely she’d earned that right by now, hadn’t she? After all the crud, the heartache she’d been through. Surely …?

She stepped through the doorway, down the short dark passage, and joined Becks in the lab.

‘The displacement machine is now charging.’

‘Becks?’

The support unit stopped what she was doing and looked up at her.

‘You know, you have a choice too. You understand that, don’t you?’

‘I have a choice?’ She said that like she was questioning the idea.

‘Of course you do! You’re not my slave. Or Liam’s. Or Waldstein’s.’ Maddy came round one of the desks towards her. ‘In the end, we’re no different, you and me. Right?’ She laughed. ‘You know what? We’re just two orphans now. That’s us … just two lost girls looking for a place to call home.’

Becks frowned. ‘I do not know what to choose.’

‘You don’t have to come with me, Becks. You don’t have to go to Liam. You’re free to go wherever the hell you want!’

‘I do not … know what to choose, Maddy.’

‘Well, OK.’

Time … time … we’re running out of time!

‘OK, what would make you happy, Becks?’

‘Happy?’ Happiness – she cocked her head at such a curious notion. She stood up straight, and her grey eyes seemed to lose their intense focus for a moment as she pondered that. ‘Mission priorities being met. Data compressed cleanly and filed correctly … things being tidy.’

Maddy chuckled at that. ‘Seriously? Things being tidy?’

Becks nodded. ‘And …’

‘And what?’

Becks’s face seemed to colour ever so slightly. ‘Being … 
needed
.’

Needed?

‘My God? Becks? Seriously?’

She nodded, looking almost sheepish.

‘Do you realize how … 
human
a thing that is to say?’

‘Humans prefer to serve?’

‘No, not
serve
 … but … we just … it’s hard to explain.’ Maddy thought she understood what Becks meant by that one word – having someone not just to be close to, but having someone that you know … just
know …
isn’t going to make it through life without you being there for them. Maybe that’s what
home
is … a place that eventually falls into disrepair and collapses into dust without you to care for and nurture it. A place … or a person.

‘So, all right. Think … who do you reckon needs you most, Becks? Is it Liam? Do you want to go back and be with Liam?’

She narrowed her eyes for a moment. ‘It is Bob … I think. His AI has room for further development. I believe he still processes emotional thought as heuristic logic.’ She frowned. ‘I would like to help him appear more human.’

‘OK … that’s good, that’s –’

‘And there is also Liam. I believe he needs me too. He is rash,
impulsive. He needs tactical guidance.’ Becks huffed and looked at Maddy. ‘Men … huh?’

Maddy laughed at that. She had no idea where Becks had heard that. A sitcom perhaps, or a film.

‘And who is the person who needs you most, Maddy?’

She shrugged. ‘I … I’m not sure.’

‘Liam’s message was clear: our choice has to be made quickly.’

‘I know … I know!’

Becks looked at the display screen. The energy-storage bar was showing enough charge for a portal to be opened. ‘We should hurry up, Maddy.’

‘I know!’ She shook her head. ‘I guess we’d better be quick.’ She looked around Waldstein’s secret lab. ‘Last place I want to be frikkin’ well stuck forever is right here.’

Becks reached across to the screen and started tapping in data. ‘Do you know where you want to go, Maddy?’

Time to decide, Maddy. Tick tock. Tick tock.

‘All right.’ She nodded. ‘Yeah, OK … I know …’

They found another way out from the labyrinthine catacombs. Rather than having to come out via the temple, they’d found a path that led them to daylight via a winding route which had eventually taken them into the city’s sewer system. The blinding sunlight made Liam’s eyes water as they emerged into the warm light of a new dawning day. Above them a tall brick archway supported an aqueduct leading across the shallow dip of the Kidron Valley over the high wall and into the city.

Ahead of them, as they looked east, they watched the sun, molten and liquid like a ball of lava, slowly rise above the shimmering brow of the Mount of Olives.

‘Do you think our message got through?’

Before leaving, they’d headed up to the archive of religious texts stored beneath the temple, each scroll of parchment carefully rolled on a wooden pin, tied up and sealed with a wax tablet and placed in a clay jar. One day, a thousand years from now, an army of mercenaries and crusaders would be rampaging through this freshly taken city, burning, looting and far, far worse. Few places would remain untouched by it. The catacombs beneath this temple, the holiest of holies, would be one of the few places left intact … and two brothers by the name of Treyarch would discover the archive and, united by their desire for atonement and forgiveness, would determine to protect the holy building –
now part synagogue, part church, part mosque – from the rampaging mercenaries. More importantly, they would discover a particular scroll, yellowed and brittle and cracked with age.

‘We will know this soon enough,’ said Bob. He nodded at the hillside.

They made their way up the gentle slope, past goatherds, merchants, traders and pilgrims flocking into the city for the coming Passover. Liam paused to rest for a moment. He turned round to look at the walled city. Its pale stonework was coloured peach by the rising sun. The myriad flat terrace roofs spilled threads of smoke from chimneys into the clear blue sky. He studied the high walls of the temple compound, the tall temple building in the middle of it.

Look out, you lot in there … a big change is coming
. Somewhere, a dozen miles north of them, a man with a message worth hearing was travelling from one small town to another, attracting a modest band of followers and the growing concern of the Pharisees in that building.

They reached the first row of trees and picked their way through the dappled light and shade of the olive grove, walking uphill until finally Bob came to a halt. ‘This is the location.’

Liam looked around. Yes. This was where they’d arrived. There was the bush, the stunted olive tree. Weary from the climb, he sat down on a flat rock, shuffling on it until he was vaguely comfortable. Bob settled down on the ground beside him.

They listened to the faint calls of people on the dirt track below, the distant market hubbub coming from the city, the twitter of sparrows in the trees, the chirruping of grasshoppers.

‘So, Liam, you said our mission now is to steer the next two thousand years of history in a
different direction
?’

‘Aye. There’s work to be done, Bob. We’ve got just one shot at this.’

‘We are not
preserving
history any more, we are –’

‘Hell with that! We are
writing
history. A brand-new one.’

Bob nodded slowly, reconfiguring his priorities, rules. ‘I understand,’ he said presently.

‘We’ve got two thousand years to play with and by the end of it we’d better bloody well not be fighting each other still … or it really will be over for the lot of us.’

Bob nodded thoughtfully. ‘So, your plan is to replace Jesus as the Christian prophet? To create a new religious faith?’

‘No!’ Liam shook his head. ‘No … I … I wouldn’t know what the hell to say. I wouldn’t know where to start with any of that. I’m not prophet-material.’

As they’d picked their way through the labyrinth of tunnels, he’d explained to Bob what he’d seen and heard: the Caretaker, the conversation … the tachyon beam being deactivated, an end to time travel … and this last chance for humankind to get it right.

Bob’s frown deepened. ‘Then what
is
your plan?’

Liam shrugged. ‘I don’t think we need to come up with anything new. It’s all there already, I think. And it’s good.’

‘I do not understand. Please clarify.’

‘The way we should behave to each other? The once-and-for-all guide to how we should all live our lives? I’d say it’s all there in what I heard him preaching. I don’t think I’d change a single word of what Jesus was telling those people.’ He shrugged. ‘I think he’s got it just about right.’

‘Then … you will
not
be altering history?’

‘Oh, but we will, Bob. We are going to completely change history. We have to.’

‘Please clarify how this will happen if you don’t intend to alter the message that Jesus is –’

Liam absently picked up a dried twig. ‘We’re going to make
sure it all gets written down … 
exactly
as he says it.’ He started idly drawing circles in the dusty soil. ‘See now, what I heard him say on the hillside? It all made perfect sense to me. As a guide for living?’ He shrugged. ‘I can’t say I’ve heard anyone put it much better than Jesus did.’

‘So your plan is that we write down what he says?’

‘Aye. We’re gonna record it … faithfully. Accurately. Honestly. Word for word.’

‘We are to write a new Bible?’

‘I suppose … yes. That’s it. That’ll be our plan. We’ll be the authors of the Bible. A brand-new one.’

That would at least be a start. Theirs was
going to be a
true
account of the story of Jesus, a far more reliable record than the old one, comprised as it was of second- or third-hand accounts written decades and even hundreds of years after the man’s death.

Liam wondered if they could do more than just that, though. Perhaps they should alter the way things were going to go over the coming week. What if they actually saved Jesus from crucifixion? Spirited him away from that grisly end. How different might the world be if he went on to live and spread his message for another twenty or thirty years? After all … last time round he’d had only seven days in Jerusalem to make his mark. Just seven days to educate us.

Or is that the point? Does he have to die … become a martyr in order for his words to leave a lasting legacy?

Liam had no idea. Foster … the Caretaker … had been quite specific. He’d said history could be changed. In fact, he’d said history MUST be changed. And … the sooner history went off the rails and trundled in a brand-new direction, the better.

Perhaps that’s what they’d do, then. Perhaps that was their mission now: to protect Jesus. Make sure he got more than just a few precious days to get his teachings out there. They were going to be his bodyguards … More than that, they were going to be his chroniclers, his archivists, his biographers. Perhaps even his close friends. If there was one thing he and Bob could do with the lifetime they had left, it would be to ensure Jesus’s message would guide mankind towards its eventual judgement day. That those words weren’t going to be fabricated, mis-translated and wilfully
misinterpreted
by people centuries from now with dark hearts and darker goals.

He looked down at the dusty ground beneath his feet. Absently he’d been drawing a twisted loop, like a figure of eight lying on its side. He smiled … he recognized that it was the symbol for infinity.

Only infinity, eternity … would be ending very soon. No more chaos space. No more torment of a
forever
for Sal and countless others caught in that artificial hell.

With one hand, he began to scrub out the symbol … despising the torment it represented. But he stopped. He’d brushed away just the start of the loop on the right and now what remained of it looked just a little bit like the symbol for a fish.

A fish … or the broken open end of an eternal loop.

Maybe we could use that as a symbol? The broken loop.

A symbol of the new faith, not a cross this time, representing a grisly death, but a broken loop – a reminder to mankind for the next two millennia. A reminder that there were going to be no more chances, no more take-backs, that this time round was our very last time to get our lives right.

A fresh and cooling breeze made the brittle leaves around them whisper. He looked up at Bob. The support unit gave him a crude, thick-lipped smile.

One day, hopefully, he was going to finally get that right; he might even look less than terrifying. ‘Liam … I am picking up precursor tachyon particles. A portal is due to open.’

‘Good … looks like they got our message, then.’

Liam looked up at the air above the dry ground, where he expected to see it open. It began to shimmer like the air above a campfire. Suddenly a six-foot-wide sphere inflated from a mere pinprick; it hung in the air before him. Its surface rippled and undulated, and in the swirling oil-colour pattern he thought he could see ceiling strip lights and dangling loops of electrical flex, the pale walls of a small room … and the dark outline of … what …? One figure – was there more than one? – standing there.

He waved at them. ‘Come on, then! You coming through or what?’

‘Do not be scared, ducks,’ grunted Bob. ‘Cluck … cluck … cluck.’

Liam looked at him.

‘That was not amusing, Liam?’

‘Not really. Anyway, it’s meant to be chickens … not ducks.’

Bob gave that a moment’s thought, then his deep voice rumbled softly and his meaty shoulders shook and his thick horse-lips parted. ‘Chickens. I see. That is amusing.’