They sat in silence for a while, digesting the small block of text on the screen. Finally Liam shrugged. ‘That they’re in trouble?’
‘Well, duh,’ sighed Maddy.
‘They need our help?’ said Sal.
‘But can we help, though?’ said Liam. ‘Can I go into the future?’
‘Of course you can.’ Maddy pinched the tip of her nose thoughtfully. ‘Think about it. Every time we bring you back from a mission in the past, you’re going forward in time, aren’t you?’
› This is correct. A mission operative can travel forward and backwards. However, energy expenditure is significantly higher moving forward.
Sal looked at the other two. ‘But maybe there are other field offices further in the future than us who will deal with this?’
Liam nodded. ‘She’s right. If we’re not the only team, then perhaps somebody else is closer in time?’
Maddy gave it a moment’s thought. ‘Then why direct the message right at us? I mean… right here, right now?’ She turned back to the desk. ‘Bob, was this a broad-spectrum signal beam, sent out for everybody to pick up… anywhere… anywhen?’
› Negative. It was a narrow, focused beam.
‘Meaning it was meant for us?’
› That is the logical assumption, Maddy.
‘But surely there are other teams in the future,’ said Sal. ‘Somebody closer in time and — ’
‘Maybe there are,’ cut in Maddy, ‘but any field office based after — ’ she looked at the screen — ‘after the eighteenth of August 2015 is going to be affected by the time wave also, right?’ She stared at the other two. ‘So maybe we’re the closest unaffected team? Maybe we’re the field office closest before this date?’
Liam sighed. ‘Aw, come on. Why is it us again? We only just got ourselves fixed up after the last bleedin’ mess and a half.’
› Hello, Liam. I have a question.
‘Good mornin’, Bob.’
› Is ‘bleedin’’ a reference to the high body count of the last mission including the extensive damage to my last organic support frame? Or is it an expression of anger I should add to my language database?
‘It’s Liam being all stressy,’ said Maddy.
› Angry?
‘That’s right.’
Once again they stared in silence at the partial message displayed on the screen, all of them silently hoping it would just go away or change into another message simply welcoming them to the agency.
‘It’s for us, isn’t it?’ said Sal after a while. ‘We’ve got to fix this time problem like we did the last one.’
Maddy nodded. ‘I think so.’
Liam’s jaw set firmly. ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere ’less I’ve got Bob coming with me. I mean that, so I do.’
‘OK,’ said Maddy. ‘That’s only fair.’ She turned round to face the computer monitors. ‘Bob, can we speed up the growth cycle of the foetus we’ve started off?’
› Affirmative. Increase the nutrient mix of the feed solution. Introduce a small electrical charge to the suspension fluid to stimulate cell activity.
‘How quickly can we have a body ready for you?’
› Growth cycle can be increased by 100 % with acceptable risk to the biological life form.
‘Half the time,’ said Maddy. ‘That’s still… what? Thirty-eight hours?’
› Correct.
‘Could we not birth the clone any earlier?’ added Liam. He looked at Maddy and shrugged. ‘I mean, does it need to be a fully grown man?’
› Optimal age for organic support unit is approximately 25 years old. Muscle tissue and internal healing systems are at their most functional.
‘But, as Liam says, could we eject the clone from the tube at a younger age? Or would that… I dunno, kill it?’
› Negative. A growth candidate can be functional from approximate age of 14 onwards. However, the support unit’s effectiveness would be compromised.
‘What does that mean?’ asked Liam.
‘It means Bob won’t be quite as big a brute as he was last time,’ said Sal.
‘So… what if we birth the clone at say… about eighteen years of age,’ asked Maddy. ‘How useful would he be?’
› An eighteen-year-old clone would offer approximately 50 % of normal operational capacity.
‘He’d be half as strong?’ said Liam.
Maddy nodded. ‘And how much time would that save us off the growth cycle?’
› 14 hours.
She looked round at the others. ‘What do you reckon?’
‘We speed up the growing process and then empty him out on to the floor twenty-four hours from now?’ said Liam. ‘And we’ll have an eighteen-year-old Bob, with half the muscles?’
‘That’s about it.’
‘But he’ll still be dangerous to other people, right? I mean… doesn’t make any sense me having him by my side if he’s just — ’
› Affirmative, Liam. I will be capable of causing death with or without weapons.
Liam managed a weak smile. ‘Then I guess it’d be good to have you back, Bob.’
› Thank you. I look forward to being fully operational again.
Maddy slapped her hand on the desk. ‘Right, then. I guess we have a plan of action. Since we’ve got no time to waste, Sal, could you go see to the growth candidate? Let’s get that process sped up.’
‘OK.’
‘And I guess I better start gathering all the data I can on this Edward Chan guy,’ she said, pecking at the computer’s keyboard.
‘What about me?’ asked Liam.
Maddy tapped her fingers absentmindedly on the desk. ‘Er… hell, I don’t know.’
‘I suppose I’m coffee-maker?’
She smiled. ‘If you’re doing a run to Starbucks, can you grab me a chocolate-chip muffin as well?’
‘Yeah, me too,’ called Sal from the back room’s doorway.
CHAPTER 12
2001, New York
‘So, this is what I’ve got,’ said Maddy, producing several sheets of computer printout.
This evening the Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant’s eating area was deserted apart from them. Brooklyn’s streets were quiet, everyone back home now that the last light of the evening had gone. All home, watching the news on their TV sets. Today’s sky had been divided all day by the thick column of black smoke from the collapsed Twin Towers, and New Yorkers were emerging from the fog of shock and dismay at the day’s events to a mood of contemplation and mourning.
They were lucky to find even this place open. Only a couple of staff seemed to be on, and they were busy half the time watching the news updates on a small TV set up right on the counter.
‘Edward Chan, as you guys will remember Foster telling us, is this bright young maths kid who went to the University of Texas. He graduated there, then went on to do some post-grad work.’
‘What is that… what’s post-grad?’
‘It’s just more studying, Liam. The kind of studying where you tell your teachers what specific area you intend researching, and they just check in with your work every now and then, and help out if they can.
‘So anyway,’ she continued, looking down at the printouts and reading, ‘at the university he sets out to do a research paper on zero-point energy.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘Jeez, Liam… are you going to keep stopping me to ask what stuff is?’
He looked hurt. ‘I’ve got to learn all these modern words, right? I mean, I’m still really just a lad from Cork who’s running to catch up on the last century, so I am.’
Maddy sighed. ‘It’s sort of like energy that’s supposed to exist at a sub-atomic level. It was still just theoretical mumbo… jumbo in my time.’
‘I think they started building something to do with that in India in my time,’ said Sal. ‘Experimental reactor or something, because we were running out of oil and stuff.’
Maddy scooped up some fries from her box. ‘Anyway, if I can continue, Liam? Chan set out to do a paper on zero-point energy and ended up changing course. Instead he wrote a paper on the theoretical possibility of time travel. The main point he was making in his work was that the theoretical energy that was assumed to be there in normal space-time, the sub-atomic energy-soup that was meant to be everywhere, was in fact a form of “leakage” from other dimensions. He writes this science paper and does nothing else notable until his death from cancer a few years later at the age of twenty-seven.’