‘Take a seat. I won’t be keeping you long.’ He poured a cup of coffee from a selection of drinks on the sideboard and placed it in front of me on the table. ‘Have some coffee. You’re probably very tired.’
I blew on the steamy drink and took a sip. It was much stronger, more bitter, than any coffee I’d tasted before.
‘My name is Admiral Wolfe,’ the man said.
It was an oddly appropriate name. His greying beard and hair surrounded a pair of green eyes flecked with yellow. Everything about the man – his build, his uniform, the way he moved – suggested power.
‘You’ve already met Lauren Thomas,’ said Wolfe. ‘Though you will have known her as Lauren Deckard.’
I glanced at Lauren. She was a cleaner, a professional assassin. What sort of person chose to make a living that way?
‘I am going to need you to make a statement,’ Wolfe continued. ‘When you have done that, you will be free to go.’
‘OK,’ I said. I wondered where I would go.
Admiral Wolfe tapped a thin membrane – some sort of ultra-thin, flexible computer screen on the desk in front of him. ‘Begin recording,’ he said. ‘Mission 2123/2012 Fugitive Recovery. Date: 31st July 2123. Eden Anfield making her statement in the presence of Admiral Titan Wolfe and Agent Lauren Thomas.’ He smiled at me warmly. ‘Now, Eden, begin with the first time you met Orion Westland.’
‘He was at my school,’ I said. ‘A new kid. Obviously he was undercover, but I didn’t know that. Part of his mission required him to get to know my best friend.’
‘Carry on,’ said Wolfe.
‘So he became a part of my circle of friends. But I could tell he was different.’
‘How?’
‘He didn’t know things that everybody knows,’ I said. ‘Names of famous people and things like that.’
Wolfe turned to Lauren. ‘Who was the researcher for that mission?’
‘Cassiopeia Wade.’
‘Continue,’ Wolfe said to me.
‘I didn’t know he had travelled through time of course. I thought lots of other things at first. But then I came across a book that was written and published in the future.’
The air in the room grew colder. Wolfe looked at Lauren. ‘This suggests some very sloppy work. Criminally so.’ He turned back to me. ‘Did you meet Cassiopeia Wade or Benjamin Hansen?’
‘I knew them as Ryan’s father and sister.’
‘Where did you find this book?’
I hesitated. I didn’t want to say anything that might make things worse for Ryan. Or Cassie and Ben – the other agents from the original mission – for that matter. I was going to have to bend the truth.
‘I broke into their house. I was looking for answers.’
Wolfe nodded. ‘And what did you do when you discovered the truth?’
‘When I confronted Ryan, he denied everything. But I pieced together their mission and decided to help him. The main part of his mission was to prevent something from happening. He wasn’t able to stop it happening. But I was. And then they left.’
Wolfe frowned. ‘They just left? They didn’t consider it necessary to bring you with them?’
I shook my head.
‘And then Orion came back?’ said Admiral Wolfe. ‘Because he was in love with you?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘He came back to save my life. After they left, the mission cleaner killed me. Ryan thought that was unfair since I was the one who completed the mission. So he came back to save me.’
I stopped talking and played with the frayed edge of my T-shirt, while Admiral Wolfe conferred with Lauren in low tones. I hoped I had said the right things.
‘Is there anything else you would like to add to your statement?’ he asked me.
My palms were clammy. I rubbed the sweat on to my jeans. ‘Only that Ryan didn’t travel back for selfish reasons. He travelled back to save me, to make things right. He shouldn’t be punished for that.’
Admiral Wolfe stood up. ‘You’re free to go, but don’t leave the city until after Orion’s trial. You will be called as a witness.’
‘Can I see him?’ I asked.
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ said the admiral. ‘The only visitor that young man can see today is his lawyer.’
Lauren stood up. ‘I’ll show you the way out.’
‘Take her to the front desk for a resettlement pack,’ said the admiral.
I followed Lauren along a series of long white corridors, each one lined with identical white doors, all shut, like a hospital without visitors. Sunlight poured through tall windows, blinding me with brightness. I squinted at the floor and hurried after Lauren who was striding ahead of me.
‘A word of advice,’ said Lauren as we entered the reception. ‘Let me tell them you’re eighteen. Unless you want to end up in a state care home for the next two years.’
Three women sat behind the long reception desk, each dragging icons across a transparent membrane computer and talking into a headset. One of them looked up at us.
‘This is Eden Anfield,’ said Lauren. ‘She’s eighteen. Out of time. She needs a resettlement pack.’
The woman spoke quietly into her headset, smiled and passed me a card. It was the size of a credit card, but thinner and made of a soft flexible material.
‘This flexi-card will cover six weeks at the Lakeview Hotel and enough credit to buy food and clothing for the same period,’ she said. She reached beneath the counter and passed me a small resealable plastic bag containing my only possessions: my mobile phone; the gold chain with my mother’s wedding ring; the penny I’d found on the moor; two photographs; and my wallet. ‘I believe these are also yours.’
‘Good luck,’ said Lauren. She turned and walked back the way we had come.
A small transparent screen blocked the front door. As I approached, a red light quickly pulsed against my eyes.
‘Eden Anfield,’ said a melodic, disembodied voice. ‘Cleared to leave the building.’
I walked through the front door and out into the brilliant sunshine.
That was when the full reality of my situation hit me. I knew no one. I didn’t even know where I was. I had nothing but the clothes on my back and the so-called relocation package on the flexi-card thing I’d been given. The only person I knew was Ryan, and he was locked up inside.
I looked around me. The Institute was at the top of a hill. In front of me was a car park and a security gate leading to a wide avenue. I sucked in a deep breath and began walking.
I was halfway across the car park when I saw him: Ben, the agent who had led Ryan’s original mission to 2012. He was loading some files into the boot of his car. I stopped and stared. Back in 2012 he’d pretended to be Ryan’s father, a science writer who liked to live in secluded locations where he wouldn’t be disturbed. He’d stayed home most of the time, dressed in jeans and a shirt, a day’s worth of stubble on his cheeks. Now he was dressed in a smart charcoal uniform similar to Admiral Westland’s. His face was clean-shaven, his hair was short on the sides and slicked back on top.
Back in 2012, he’d always been kind to me.
‘Ben?’ I said.
He slammed the boot of his car shut and turned.
‘It’s me,’ I said.
He blinked. ‘Eden?’
I nodded and walked towards him.
‘What the hell?’ he said.
‘Ryan came back for me. The cleaner killed me so Ryan came back.’
Ben just stared, his mouth open.
‘But the Guardians found out and sent a cleaner after him.’
‘I know. It’s been all over the news: Admiral Westland’s son has gone rogue and stolen a time-ship. The Institute refused to comment. They prefer to keep their affairs to themselves.’ He shook his head. ‘But here you are.’