The Past Page 9

  The noise of engines revving and people shouting draws him to the window. Below, the crowd has grown even larger with spectators, photographers and journalists now jostling for position near the hotel’s entrance. Click-click! Oddly shaped large cameras on tripods flash to take the photos of the delegates and scientists. In the commotion, he spots a grey Russian Cossack ski hat, the same hat as the one in his vision. It’s the woman who so skilfully seduced him, the Seductress. She walks to the entrance with a man dressed in a brown suit and waistcoat.

  VanWest opens the window and leans over to get a better view, it is Francois de Rose! A Most Wanted is walking in with the UNESCO meeting’s chairman. This cannot be!? Indeed, it was he who warned to stay away from this ‘lady of the night’. Has she cast her spell over him too? VanWest immediately leaps into action, running out his room and down the stairs, hoping to intercept her at the foyer. But he’s too late, by the time he arrives, the Seductress is at security and, without any holdup, is allowed through into the conference centre.

  Wearing the ill-fitting red uniform, VanWest enacts his audacious plan to enter the conference as a hotel employee. Grabbing hold of a pitcher of water from the side table, he approaches a security guard. The man looks at him with some suspicion, as if not quite believing him to be an employee. However, with a large group of delegates approaching, he opts to wave VanWest on, allowing him into the conference and into a room that looks very familiar. Like déjà vu, it is all becoming a bit too real; the puzzle completing itself and the plot taking shape. However, the Seductress is now nowhere to be seen. He knows he must find her fast.

  As VanWest foresaw, hunched-backed delegates sit in front of rows of white-clothed desks, listening intensely into their bulky headphones, as translators speak to them quietly. Francois is seated centre stage, looking relaxed but authoritatively towards the delegates. He greets the room with a big smile, ‘Welcome my friends to this UNESCO meeting’, and sets about outlining today’s agenda in a firm and clear voice.

  The agenda includes a session to discuss the pros and cons of an international agreement for the creation of the European Organisation of Nuclear Research, CERN: ‘The first resolution’. If this is the place he envisioned, the Seductress will act soon. Trying not to panic, he discreetly walks along each row of white-clothed tables, filling the empty glasses with the water from his pitcher whilst searching for her. Where is she!?

  With so many delegates and the meeting’s chairman Francois speaking, he worries that an explosion is nigh, for everything is set in place. Continuing to move from row to row, he switches his attention to finding any trace of the black powder from Albert Picot’s room, but he cannot find this either. He wonders what is he not seeing?

  Leaning his back against the wall, he looks back over at Francois. Like with everywhere in 1951 Paris, smoking is permitted inside this meeting too. This time, he notices something very worrying: tiny black specs on Francois’s brown jacket! Could this be the explosive powder!?

  Worse yet, he sees that Francois holds a lighter in his left hand. The Seductress’s full plot finally unveiled and the puzzle complete. A spark from the lighter could ignite the black powder on his jacket and blow his head right off, with Albert Picot implicated for his murder. VanWest knows he must act straight away. To his right is a fire alarm box, and without hesitation pulls down the lever, keeping one eye firmly fixed on Francois.

  Pin-pong! Pin-pong! The alarm sounds before Francois can light his cigarette. His quick thinking may have worked! Francois places his lighter and cigarette down on his desk and calmly instructs through his microphone, ‘My friends, we must go’! Before proceeding to the exit.

  Still holding a now half-empty pitcher of water, VanWest knows the danger isn’t over, the powder is still on Francois’s clothes. He intercepts him, pretending to trip, he throws the water all over him, soaking his jacket and shirt and, more importantly, the powder. Remembering only at that moment that Francois has seen his face before, he bows his head, trying to avoid eye contact.

  ‘Apologies, Sir. Me so clumsy’, VanWest offers in broken English, trying his best not to raise suspicion.

  ‘Agh! You have done me a favour, my friend! There are black stains all over my jacket. I found it in this dirty state when I passed through security. Strangely, it was clean when I entered the building’, Francois responds kindly.

  ‘Thank you. Many apologies’, mumbles VanWest, head still bowed.

  But, as VanWest helps Francois remove his jacket, the jig is up. Francois makes eye contact with him and asks, ‘Do I not know you from somewhere’?

  Before he can offer an excuse, VanWest finally catches sight of the woman in the grey Cossack ski hat, the Seductress - she has been watching them from the stairwell, half-hidden by a mahogany grandfather clock. A now very concerned Francois calls ‘Security’ as VanWest drops the jacket to give chase to the Seductress.

  She turns and runs into what seems to be the cellar. Rushing down the stairs, he is forced to duck as he follows. Entering into a pitch-black room with a low ceiling, greeting him is icy cold air that whistles past - phwwwhht - so forcefully it causes the wine bottles on the racks to rattle. The wind is most peculiar as there is no window, no visible source from where the cold air could originate. He uses his hands to search from rack to rack to find her, hastened by the approaching shouts of the hotel’s security, ‘Down there’.

  The hairs on his arms are standing straight as if being pulled towards something. Upon reaching the last rack, a wine bottle smashes on the floor. The Seductress leaps out, brushing VanWest’s shoulder as she passes. He manages to grab hold of the tail end of her fur coat, thinking he has caught her, but instead finds himself yanked sideways.

  The darkness of the cellar is replaced by an intense light. Once again he is spinning around and around uncontrollably through the vortex, just like his journey to 1951 Paris. His arms flail about, trying to grab hold of something, anything!

  Finally, it comes to a halt, jolting him out and crashing into a mushy - splash - and gooey bed of paste. Dazed, he struggles to sit up and get to his feet. Even though he is not gagging this time, he knows he has travelled through time again! By the layout of the building, dimly lit with metal grids and a floor caked with gooey paste, he must have leapt into a farm.

  Managing to get to his feet, a loud hiss noise stops him still. He gulps before turning around slowly. A giant creature stares back at him, its small head striped black and red with antennas sticking out, balancing on top of a large elongated body with long spindly legs.

  It’s a giant farm-bred cockroach. Whilst freaky in appearance, fortunately for VanWest it is ever so timid. He picks up a handful of the gooey paste, likely fodder, and throws it at the bug, causing it to scamper away. However, it only serves to reveal yet more farm-bred cockroaches behind! The Seductress hasn’t chosen the most glamourous of locations, especially when compared to 1951 Paris! He wonders, why here?

  Farm cockroaches are a popular delicacy on Earth, prized in particular for their high protein and fat contents. Over recent centuries, they have been bred to be far larger and fatter than their much smaller ancestors. Able to withstand the effects of radioactive chemicals, these bugs thrived in the soaring temperatures when most other creatures perished. Splurging on the toxic waste dumps, which contributed to their dramatic increase in size. Although farm cockroaches are relatively tame, several humans over the years have been killed and eaten by their wilder cousins, who live in the sewers.

  A small light emanates from the other side of the pen, casting two human shadows before it. The first is the Seductress, he found her! The other a large bulky man, perhaps the cockroach farmer judging by his large metal axe. VanWest decides to creep closer, careful though not to be seen or heard. He doesn’t know who else is around and what dangers lurk.

  Next to the farmer is an open trailer with a slaughtered cockroach inside. The bulky man has a tattoo similar to that of the Seductress, a letter U behind his ear. H
e must be another Utopian from this radical cult. And, as he has seen himself, ‘hell-bent’ on returning Earth to its mid-20th-century self, taking Earth backwards and with it undoing all progress. That noted, VanWest cannot help but think that Paris December 1951 looks a whole lot better than anything he has seen on Earth.

  Acknowledging her U tattoo, the farmer responds by exchanging a mark of respect before opening a small hatch, which sends a stream of light through the pen. He can’t quite hear, but it sounds like she is telling him to ‘alert the others’. The Seductress smiles and exits, leaving the farmer to resume his work.

  VanWest knows he can’t let her escape with the Quantum Accelerator rods, this would risk letting her, or any other Utopian, able to travel through time yet again. Her mission, to 1951 Paris, lucky to have failed. The next might not be so.

  With the farmer distracted by his work, VanWest sees his opportunity. Thinking fast, he steers the giant cockroaches towards the farmer, using their fat bodies as cover, allowing him to approach without raising suspicion. As the farmer crouches down to pick up another cockroach leg from the floor, he jumps onto his back and quickly puts him in a chokehold. Even though the farmer is strong, he is no match for an Enforcer. VanWest tightens his hold, rendering him unconscious.

  Chapter 9 Leap into the Queen’s Nest

  VanWest shields his eyes from the sun’s glare as he peers outside. Greeting him is a caustic trench of burning rubber, causing his throat to itch and eyes to sting. The smell is unfortunately quite familiar for it is the same as that found on ColaBeers and in all of the Antarctic settlements. Confirming, he is indeed back in the present, back to where the air is barely breathable and quite poisonous without a hazmat mask. Most settlements lack a safety dome to protect the citizens from radioactive radiation and heat. Having been deemed not worth the investment.

  Hummm! Whizzing overhead are two Quadrotors, each carrying a large cage on top. They are following, well more stalking and harassing, two sickly-looking elderly citizens dressed in tatty white jumpsuits who trudge slowly along the street, not daring and too exhausted to look up. The Quadrotors are commonly used to oppress the citizens, acting as a constant reminder to behave or else they will be sent to one of the Universal Council’s hellish jails. In their system of law, all citizens are treated as if they are criminals, assumed guilty till proven otherwise.

  These two bedraggled citizens, a relatively elderly man and woman, are so malnourished that they resemble living skeletons. Their legs bow-shaped and backs bent, they muster all their strength to scavenge for scraps, for something to eat, anything at all. They certainly pose no threat to anyone.

  Seeing him staring, they limp over to VanWest, dragging a near-empty food bag, thinly plated with a layer of lead to protect against radiation, along the concrete floor. VanWest notices that the bag displays the label of the Universal Games logo sponsor, InsectnOut. The irony doesn’t entirely escape him. A brand used to gather scraps by the weakest in society, also used by an Enforcer to win the ultimate prize.

  They look bemused at his odd attire, his 1950s Parisian hotel uniform now covered in goo, a mixture of cockroach waste and fodder. With toothless smiles, they stretch out their arms to beg for leftovers, likely assuming him to be a worker from this cockroach farm.

  Across the woman’s tatty jumpsuit is written: We Love this City, Queen Elizabeth, Antarctica. VanWest is relieved, it is indeed the putrid air of Antarctica and it appears he is back in the present, inside Earth’s capital city.

  VanWest instructs the couple to wait as he goes back into the pen, keen to get them some food. After herding the cockroaches back from the entrance, he pulls a cockroach leg out of the trailer. The couples’ wrinkled faces light up as he returns, dropping to their bony knees to thank him. Though its weight is light for VanWest, they struggle to take hold of the leg, which is far too heavy for their malnourished and weakened bodies. Still, they somehow manage, desperate for its sustenance. With grateful smiles, they bid him goodbye and drag their now full bag back down the street.

  Flagging the Quadrotors over is not an option for VanWest, for he knows that without his Enforcer uniform he could risk being tasered. Finding himself locked in a holding cell awaiting trial for an unknown number of days, unlikely to be identified immediately. Days he does not have! He needs to get the Quantum Accelerator rods back within 48 hours.

  Assumed guilty till proven innocent, Earth’s jails are a bleak place. Packed with hundreds of thousands of citizens, many spend upwards of a hundred days awaiting their trial. Eventually, most are convicted of some minor infraction such as being out after curfew or another nonsensical crime of like acting suspiciously, as justification for leaving them in jail so long. For the all-knowing Universal Council is never wrong. Due to the corrupt and inefficient justice system, only those able to bribe jailors or hold any type of influence, such as knowing a Council official or reputed businessman in their district, ever manage to get released early.

  Fortunately, the Seductress can’t leap straightaway. The Quantum Accelerator rod has a jump-to-jump time of once every 48 hours so he MUST find the useable one. Even though she may technically be able to jump earlier, it’s much too unstable to guarantee that she will arrive at the right destination, if at all. Beyond the farm, two-storey warehouses line the road, their lead-plated shutters and walls covered in NEA graffiti. There is no greenery or wildlife, just an eerie silence except for the low hum of the Quadrotors.

  He must move fast for other reasons as well, as the sun is soon going to set. From his experiences in ColaBeers, settlements become more dangerous at night. Some places are even abandoned to junkies, rapists, pimps, nightwalkers, and other unsavoury characters. Most of the crime is usually low-level and wouldn’t pose a threat to him, a trained Enforcer. However, he doesn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.

  Most crimes are committed by those looking for hallucinogenic Papini, called Liquid Blue, some resort to stealing to get their next fix. Other junkies even murder for it. The Universal Council does very little to stop or help them. Instead choosing to lavish their resources on themselves, the Elites, who live far removed from the ordinary citizens and the slums. They simply do not care.

  VanWest waits until the Quadrotors are out of sight before hurrying along the street to try and find the Seductress. The wait has been too long and she is nowhere to be seen, likely having disappeared down one of the many side streets or into one of the warehouses. Realising this, and that he still has 48 hours, he decides it best to find an Enforcer station where he can be identified immediately. And, more crucially, do so without risk of being jailed.

  A vandalised street sign reads Mid-City 1 Mile. Mid-City is the section of each settlement that houses the Enforcer HQ, it’s usually in one of the most affluent areas, hence the heavy Enforcer presence. He trusts that Dr King will know what to do. But he also fears being punished for being fooled by the Seductress and, worse still, being robbed of two Quantum Accelerator rods. Hopefully, the news of successfully preventing the Utopians from changing the course of history will appease his liege enough to outweigh his failures. He sticks to the side of the street, moving quickly from shadow to shadow, following the signs towards the twisted skyscrapers in the distance.

  As he nears Mid-City, an extremely high-pitched noise - screech - comes from all directions. It forces him to his knees in excruciating pain, his hands trying to shield his ears. An intense light follows. Nearly blinded, he is just about able to make out two approaching Enforcers armed with plasma rifles. Alarm sets in as he recognises the weapon’s orange line, an indication that ‘kill mode’ is active. Anticipating the bolt of orange light from the plasma rifle, VanWest instinctively rolls to his right, narrowly dodging the Enforcer’s shot as it tears through the pavement.

  Spotting a storm drain, he gets up and runs. The patrol androids swarm around the Enforcer, discharging their weapons next. Laser and plasma shots light up the street, which he just about outpaces as he slide
s inside the drain. He lands in a shallow stream of dirty water filled with a mixture of human faeces and garbage and with it a disgusting stench. Eeeee! Shrieks echo along the storm drain, the tunnel-dwellers awoken and sent into a frenzy, tiny bugs scurrying to hide in the small cracks in the wall. Their chirping and hissing sounds quite foreboding.

  The siren - Wah-Wah - blares as heavy footsteps cause the walls around him to vibrate. VanWest gets back to his feet and scrambles along the narrow sewage tunnel to get away. Wading through the muck, he follows the flow of dirty water. The siren’s noise is replaced by even more chirping and hissing. The foul air is more rancid and warmer. He has heard worrying stories of the sewer’s dangers, that it is frequently used by the rebels, and knows he must proceed with caution.

  After what must be half an hour, he finally reaches the tunnel’s end and enters a chamber with a deep pool of incarnadine water in its centre. Suffocating steam evaporates from its surface, drawn up into an air vent above. He can just about make out the writing on a rusty sign, Aramco Power Station, next to an equally rusty ladder that leads to the vent’s access point. Carefully walking around a narrow ledge that borders the pool, he stretches to grab the bottom rung of the ladder. However, as he grabs hold and pulls himself up, one of the bars snaps, sending his foot into the pool below. Crunch! A worrying sound, not a splash as would be expected from water.

  He stands in silence, knowing this not to be a good sign. Chirp-chirp! An alarming noise fills the chamber, it crescendos as the tiny bugs now flee from the pool. In a panic to escape, they crawl over his body, his ears and mouth. VanWest’s hands tremble as he pulls himself up the ladder once again, spitting out the bugs that now clog his throat - cough.