‘Pegasus found me. He rescued me from my hotel room and took me up to the mountains.’
Ryan flicked his hair out of his eyes. ‘I can’t wait to be out of here so I can show you around myself.’
‘Me too.’
‘Have you met anyone else yet?’
‘Peg took me out last night. I met some of your friends.’
‘I saw you guys on the com-screen when you were leaving the bar. Are you OK? Did you get hurt?’
‘Everything was fine. I’m fine.’
He lifted one of his hands from the table and chewed at the skin on the side of his thumb. ‘You didn’t go back to the hotel last night?’
‘You’ve been watching too much TV.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘Peg offered me his spare room. It was easier than dealing with the reporters outside the hotel.’
‘Right.’ He pulled his other hand off the table and on to his lap.
‘Hands where I can see them,’ said the guard.
He put his hands back, but kept them on his side of the table.
‘Ryan,’ I said, reaching across, placing my hands as near his as I could reach. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, meeting my eyes with his. ‘It’s just so hard being locked up here while you guys are out there.’ He slid his hands back across towards mine.
‘Time’s up,’ said the guard.
Chapter 11
I had no idea what to wear to New York. I looked through my new wardrobe, at the dresses and tops and tight leggings I’d bought. In the end, I chose a long blue top, and a pair of white leggings. I added a white jacket to finish it off, applied some mascara and lipgloss and put my flexi-card into my new bag. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I could imagine myself walking down whatever the main shopping street was in New York. And if my outfit was not quite right? Well, who could expect me to know what the current city fashions were, considering I was from the previous century and a different continent?
Peg arrived just after breakfast. He lent me a baseball cap to help hide my hair and face, and we sneaked out the back entrance of the hotel. It probably wouldn’t be long before someone tipped off the press that I was using that door, but for today, at least, I wouldn’t be followed.
Antoine was driving. His car was much bigger than Peg’s with seats for six people: two in the front and four in the back. Belle sat in the front with Antoine; Peg, Lyra and I sat in the back.
‘You look very smart,’ said Belle, once we pulled away from the hotel.
‘I didn’t know what to wear,’ I said. They were all wearing long T-shirts and shorts. ‘I guess I’m overdressed.’
‘There’s no dress code,’ said Belle. ‘You’re fine.’
Antoine pulled on to a fast road with about ten lanes in each direction. He touched some icons on the dashboard that switched the car over to automatic and then left the car to drive itself. I felt slightly sick. Cars were racing along both sides of us, much too fast, with no one at the helm.
‘Don’t computers make mistakes in the twenty-second century?’ I asked.
Antoine swivelled his chair around so that it faced the interior, his back towards the windscreen. ‘Occasionally.’
‘Don’t you think you should face the front then, in case you need to drive manually?’
They all laughed.
‘You can’t drive manually on the expressway,’ said Antoine. ‘It’s not an option. In any case, thousands of computers control the traffic on this road. If one glitches out, the others will compensate.’
Belle tapped the dashboard and the windows darkened. ‘Now you can’t see the traffic,’ she said.
The interior of the car felt like a cave. All the seats faced each other. There was a small table that popped up from the floor. Antoine opened a mini-fridge and took out a bottle of champagne.
‘Everyone want a glass of fizz?’ he asked.
‘Hold on a sec. Let me record this,’ said Lyra. She dragged her port-com out of her bag and aimed it at Antoine. ‘Just be natural.’
‘Yeah, because it’s so easy to act natural in a small space with a port-com under your nose,’ said Belle. ‘Why are you filming?’
‘I’m doing an exposé on rich kids in Lakeborough. It’s for my end of year project.’
Peg smirked. ‘You are a rich kid from Lakeborough, Lyra.’
‘Which gives me the perfect in,’ she said. ‘Look, the rest of the world is fascinated by us. They think we’re overprivileged and spoilt. Let’s show the world the truth.’
‘But you are overprivileged and spoilt,’ said Peg.
Lyra sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘Who cares? I need a good story for my end of year assignment. It’s the only way I’m going to get sponsored by a major news agency.’
Antoine shrugged and poured five glasses of champagne into crystal glasses. No one spoke a word.
‘For God’s sake, say something,’ said Lyra.
‘Maybe you should save the filming for New York,’ said Belle. ‘This is a bit too up close and personal.’
‘You’re all so inhibited,’ said Lyra, pushing her port-com back in her bag.
They talked about school for a while and I just sat back and listened. Lyra was hoping to study journalism at university in a couple of months’ time, but needed to be sponsored by a news agency if she was to get on the advanced program. Antoine and Peg were both cadets at the Lakeborough Space and Time Academy. Belle wanted to study theatre, but her parents were dead set against it.
‘What about you, Eden?’ asked Belle.
I shrugged. ‘Back where I’m from, I’d have two more years of school before I had to choose. Now I’m in the twenty-second century, I’m not even sure what the options are.’
‘You should come to the Academy,’ said Antoine. ‘With your experience, you’d fit right in.’
‘That’s what I told her,’ said Peg. ‘She’d be brilliant.’
Lyra widened her eyes. ‘Did you single-handedly fly a time-ship through one hundred and eleven years of time, Eden? I didn’t realise. You see, I thought you just strapped yourself in the back and let a professional fly the ship. I must be mistaken.’
‘I just sat in the back,’ I said slowly.
‘Oh. So Antoine and Peg don’t actually think you’re a brilliantly experienced pilot, they just think you’re hot and want you in their class.’ She took a cigar out of her cigar case. ‘That’s really loyal of you, guys. With Orion locked up at the Institute and everything.’
‘Shut up, Lyra,’ said Peg.
‘I so wish I’d recorded that,’ she continued. ‘It would have been a great introduction to the piece. Flattery is so vulgar.’
‘You can’t record me. I’m not a rich kid – remember?’ said Peg.
Lyra lit her cigar. Thick, musky smoke quickly filled the interior of the car. ‘You’re not a rich kid, but you like to hang out with us and feed off the crumbs from our tables.’
‘Wow,’ said Peg. ‘I never knew you held me in such high esteem. So why do you let me hang out with you?’
Lyra narrowed her eyes and blew a plume of smoke to the ceiling. Belle turned towards the dashboard and tapped an icon that activated an extractor fan which instantly sucked all the pungent cigar smoke out of the car.
‘You’re pretty cute. You’re useful to have around in case I ever feel like slumming it.’
I looked at Peg. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘Whoa, that’s harsh, even by your standards, Lyra.’
‘I’m all about the truth.’
‘Really? And yet you lied about your accident. You weren’t all about the truth then, were you?’
‘OK, children,’ said Belle. ‘Stop squabbling.’ She turned to me. ‘They love each other really.’
‘Time for another drink,’ said Antoine, bending down to take another bottle of champagne out of the fridge. He popped the cork and champagne bubbled and spilled over the lip of the bottle.