Chasing Stars

Chapter 8

For the next three days the vans, reporters and photog­raphers camped outside the Lakeview Hotel. At first, they called my room repeatedly, but then I told reception to block all my calls unless they were from Admiral Westland or the Institute. I stayed in my room, ordered room service and waited for the phone to ring. Admiral Westland had said he would let me know as soon as there was news. Surely he knew something by now? I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan. What did his lawyer think? What were his chances of being found innocent? Was he scared? Was he missing me? And what would happen if he was found guilty? What would become of me?

The only people I spoke to in all that time were the cleaner from housekeeping and the room service delivery person. I got a woman from housekeeping to show me how to turn on the TV – I had to scan my flexi-card in front of it to activate power and payment – and spent hours watching movies and the news. Ryan was the main story. Half the commentators, it seemed, felt Ryan would be found guilty; the other half believed he must have had a legitimate mission objective to travel back to 2012. It was clear that none of them had any real information. The only other news story? Me.

On the fourth day, the phone rang.

‘Admiral?’ I said.

The screen faded up from clear and a boy’s face projected into my room. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, with skin the colour of wheat, and dark hair that gleamed like black coffee.

‘No one’s ever called me that before.’ His eyes were brimming with amusement.

‘I think you have the wrong number.’

‘You’re Eden, aren’t you?’

‘Are you a journalist?’

‘Do I look like a journalist?’

‘I have no idea. You all look like a bunch of hippies dressed for a beach party if you ask me.’

His eyes crinkled with amusement. ‘I’m not completely sure what you’re saying, but I think you just insulted me.’

I shrugged. ‘How did you get through? I told them not to connect anyone unless they were from the Institute. What do you want?’

‘Sorry about that. I’m calling from Admiral Westland’s office. I’m a friend of Orion. I was wondering if you wanted to get the hell out of that hotel room you’ve been holed up in since you got here.’

‘What makes you think I’m holed up in my hotel room?’

‘There are about a hundred cameras and journos outside the front of the hotel, updating your status every half-hour. The doormen have confirmed that you’re inside and haven’t left the building in four days. So I’m guessing you could use a change of scenery.’

‘How do I get out of the building without being seen?’

‘Leave that to me. Can you call reception and ask them to let me up? I’ll be there in ten minutes.’

‘What was your name again?’

‘Peg. Pegasus Ryder.’

A quick check in the mirror confirmed that I looked like I hadn’t left my room in four days. I was unwashed, grey-skinned, still in my pyjamas. I had a quick shower, ran a comb through my tangled hair and pulled on one of my new outfits, a long green dress with a high neck and no sleeves. The material was soft and light, perfect for the warm climate.

Right on cue, my phone rang and the face of the receptionist appeared on my screen. I stood in front of the screen and listened for the quiet click that confirmed my face had been scanned and the call connected.

‘You have a visitor. A Mr Pegasus Ryder.’

‘Send him up.’

I paced nervously, waiting for his knock on my door, wondering if he’d seen me on the receptionist’s screen. I knew I shouldn’t care, but I really didn’t want Ryan’s friend to form a poor first impression of me.

He thumped the door with what sounded like the side of his fist.

‘Hi,’ I said, opening the door.

He was tall and thin, dressed in a long sleeveless shirt and loose trousers, a smudge of black eyeliner under his eyes. One arm was completely covered in tattoos, the other completely bare.

‘Come in,’ I said.

‘Nice dress,’ he said.

I shrugged. ‘I have no idea how to dress for this century.’

He had a satchel-shaped bag slung across his body. He took it off and pulled out a short blonde wig.

‘It’s my friend’s,’ he said. ‘It’ll help you get out of the hotel without being noticed.’

He helped me bunch my hair up into a hairnet and then pulled the tight blonde wig over the top. I looked in the mirror. I was transformed. Long green dress and short blonde bob was a million miles away from long red hair and jeans.

‘You’ll blend in for a few minutes at least,’ he said. ‘Long enough to get past those vultures at the door. You ready?’

I nodded, but my stomach tightened. I didn’t want to be anywhere near that crowd of reporters. Peg linked an arm through mine and steered me towards the lift. His skin against mine felt strangely intimate. And yet he made me feel safe at the same time.

‘Don’t even look at them when we leave the building,’ he said. ‘Just stay close to me and act like we’re a couple. They’ll be looking for a girl on her own.’

We walked briskly, arm in arm, through the hotel lobby. As we approached the front entrance, Peg passed me a pair of sunglasses.

‘Wear these,’ he said quietly.

The glasses were large and wrapped around the top half of my face like ski goggles.

The doorman opened the door for us and we walked through, into the blinding summer sunshine. There was a flicker of interest from the journalists and photographers, but they soon turned away.

‘My car is round the back,’ said Peg.

The car was a small two-seater. He leant towards the retinal scanner built into the dashboard and said, ‘Manual.’

‘Where are we going?’ I asked, as he pulled out into the traffic.

‘Out of the city. Do you like mountains?’

‘I don’t know. But I don’t really care where we go so long as there’re no reporters there.’

‘No reporters, I promise. Just a few hikers and – if we’re lucky – the odd bear.’

‘I don’t think I care for that kind of luck.’

He drove quickly, frequently changing lanes to get past slower vehicles. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, curious about this strange boy who was Ryan’s friend. The tattooed arm was the one closest to me, inked in every colour imaginable from his shoulder to his wrist, like a sleeve. There was a golden phoenix rising from the ashes on his wrist, a red dragon curling round his bicep, a mermaid rising from a wave over his shoulder. Every bit of space between the mythical creatures was filled with wild waves and raging flames. His face was all chiselled, sharp angles, and I’d probably have thought he was pretty cute if my heart wasn’t already spoken for.

We left the downtown area behind, passed giant strip malls and supermarkets the size of aeroplane hangars. The roads were wider and straighter than at home, lined with both tall, leafy trees and massive electronic billboards.

When we approached the outskirts of the city, Peg slowed to a crawl. ‘That’s my high school,’ he said, pointing at a low white building with tinted windows. ‘It was Orion’s too.’

I looked out of the window. The school was built from white stone; it sat amid neat green lawns and perfectly shaped maple trees. Lakeborough Space and Time Academy. A flag fluttered from the top of a pole – there were stars and stripes, but in the middle were two thick white circles: one with a red maple leaf and the other with a polar bear.

‘It’s not a regular school,’ explained Peg. ‘It’s for Space and Time cadets.’

‘So you want to work at the Institute?’

‘My dream job would be as a pilot on the Inter-Planetary Spaceport. It’s a long shot, though.’

‘How come?’

‘Very competitive. I’m on a good program, but I can’t afford the best training.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Eighteen. I have three more years before I qualify.’ He glanced at me. ‘How old are you?’

‘A hundred and twenty-seven.’

Peg smiled. ‘So you won’t be enrolling in the Academy then. Too bad. With all your experience, I bet you’d make a great time agent.’

‘I don’t really have much experience.’

‘You’ve come face to face with a cleaner.’

‘Two, actually.’

‘And travelled more than a hundred years through time. You have more experience than all of the cadets in our class put together. More than some of the instructors.’

I laughed. ‘Perhaps I’ll apply for a teaching position then.’

A few minutes past the school, the road grew wider, the houses were bigger, each sitting in a beautifully landscaped garden.

‘Ry’s family live in a house down by Hidden Valley Pond,’ Peg said, pointing towards my window.

‘This looks like a wealthy neighbourhood.’

‘His dad’s an admiral.’

‘What about you, Peg? Are you a rich kid as well?’

He smiled. ‘Not exactly. My mother died when I was a baby and my dad’s a miner. He’s living out on Titan now with his new wife.’

‘When you say Titan . . .’

‘Moon of Saturn. The Titan colonies have been around for twenty-five years.’

‘But Titan doesn’t have an atmosphere?’

‘There are domes on Titan. Huge domes, each one the size of a big city, with an artificial atmosphere.’

‘Why would anyone want to live in a place like that?’

‘Are you kidding? The chance to explore a new world? Imagine looking into the sky and there’s Saturn.’

I thought then of the planet Eden, a living breathing world with pink cliffs and blue skies. A world with an atmosphere just like Earth’s. Not a dead moon.

‘And the money of course,’ Peg continued. ‘Miners on Titan make a fortune. Most do ten years, then come home, buy a big house and retire.’

I shook my head. ‘I feel like I’ve ended up in a science fiction film. Are there any other planets or moons that have been colonised?’

‘Only the moon.’

‘That’s so strange.’

‘They say when you jump to the future the adjustment takes longer than travel to the past. They also say finding places that remind you of your own time helps. I hope you’ll like this place in the mountains. I doubt it’s changed one bit in the last hundred years. But to answer your question: I’m not rich. I have a full scholarship to Lakeborough Academy to pay for my tuition and flight time.’

We passed a sign that read Charge, Food, Lodging and Peg took the exit road.

‘We’ll need water,’ he said.

He pulled into what looked like a petrol station, though the drivers appeared to be plugging their cars into some sort of silver battery charger rather than filling their tanks. Peg ran into the shop to buy a couple of bottles of water and then we were back on the highway again.

The road began to climb. I touched a button to wind down my window. The sharp scent of pine poured into the car.

‘What do your parents do, Eden?’

‘They’re dead.’

He tore his eyes from the road and gave me an apologetic look. ‘Of course they are. Everyone you know is dead. Except Ryan.’

‘They died when I was six. A long time ago. My mother’s younger sister Miranda brought me up. She’s a legal secretary. I guess I should say she was.’

It was the first time I’d thought about Miranda since leaving my own time. My throat closed up. I forced myself to swallow.

‘It must be hard,’ he said quietly, ‘leaving everyone behind.’

‘Ryan’s dad told me to start building a new life, but it’s not easy when you don’t know anybody and things are so different it takes you two days to work out how to turn on the TV.’

‘What’s a “tee vee”?’

I sighed to myself. ‘Technology has changed so much you don’t even know what I’m talking about. It’s a screen that you watch films on. It doesn’t matter.’

The road wound higher and higher until we were up in the mountains, encircled by them, and the horizon was lost behind thick green trees and low cloud. There were no mountains where I came from, just miles of coastline and broad horizons where sky and sea met in a blur of blue. If Cornwall was blues and greys, this place was greens. Peg pulled off the main road and drove along a bumpy track. I breathed in the smell of fresh, living wood.

‘This is it,’ said Peg, parking the car on a dusty verge.

Outside the car, the sun poured down its thick, sticky heat.

‘The trees will shade us,’ he said, throwing me a bottle of water. He stuck his own bottle into his belt.

We walked to a poorly marked trail that snaked its way up the side of the mountain, hairpin bend to hairpin bend, each turn offering a view out over endless forested hills. Despite the shade from the leaves, I was hot and clammy and I emptied my water bottle in no time. Just when I was about to suggest we head back to the car, I heard a noise. A roar, like a busy road.

‘Nearly there,’ he said.

I didn’t realise we had a destination.

We followed the trail around a corner of white rock and there it was. A wide, shallow pool with a raging, white waterfall cascading into it. I looked up. Above was another pool with a larger waterfall. The water thundered and rushed.

‘The falls are bigger in the spring,’ said Peg. ‘But the water is warmer at this time of year.’

I pulled my sandals off and waded in. The water was colder than anything I’d ever felt. For a moment it took my breath away.

‘Good, huh?’ he said, oblivious to my complete and total body shock.

He was up to his thighs. His trousers had been discarded on the rocks, and he was wearing just his swimming shorts and a vest top. There was no way I was stripping down to my underwear. My dress was long, but light and loose. I was pretty sure I could swim in it. As I shuffled deeper into the water, he dived under the mossy green surface of the pool, emerging several metres away, under the spray.

‘Come on!’ he yelled at me. ‘It doesn’t get much better than this.’

His smile was so big and enthusiastic that, although my toes felt like they were going to turn to ice and fall off, I waded deeper, trying to ignore the ache in my flesh, the jolt of pain in my heart, the tightness in my lungs. And then, before I could talk myself out of it, I dived under the smooth green surface myself. The water was different to the scratchy salt water I was used to. This water was like silk; it was oily and slippery and coated my skin. When I surfaced, I gasped for warm air. Peg was treading water beneath the spray. I swam to him and when I was under the falls I leant back and opened my mouth a crack, feeling the icy water splatter on my tongue. This was the best feeling I’d had since arriving in the twenty-second century.

‘You want to climb up to the upper pool?’ Peg called out.

‘Yes!’ I yelled above the roar of the falls.

He pushed himself on to the rocks at the base of the falls and I followed. The rocks here were wet and slippery and I crunched my toes up tight to give myself traction. I followed Peg to the side of the waterfall and he pointed out the way up the rocks. It was only about fifteen metres, but I’d always been scared of heights.

‘It’s easy,’ he told me. ‘Much easier than it looks. Just follow my moves.’

He began the climb. I followed close behind, careful to match my handholds and footholds to his, making sure I never looked down. Every time a wave of nausea threatened to overcome me, I reminded myself that Ryan was locked up and facing trial. What I was doing was nothing compared with what he was facing.

When I finally hauled myself over the ledge and on to the sunny, rocky plateau by the upper pool, I was glad I’d made the effort. The waterfall here was even higher than the one below and tiny sequins of golden mist sprayed the air. Peg gestured to a flat, rocky area to the side of the falls. I joined him.

‘What do you think?’ he asked.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ I said.

He smiled to himself and pulled his wet vest top over his head, laying it out on a sunny rock to dry. I was still in my green dress. Underneath I was wearing nothing but my underwear.

‘You should take off your dress,’ he said as if reading my mind.

‘I only have underwear underneath.’

He shrugged. ‘I only have these shorts.’

‘That’s different.’

But I knew he was right. Although the sun was powerful, the heavy wet material clung to my skin, chilling me to my bones. I peeled off the dress and laid it out on the hot rocks. Peg was lying near the top of the waterfall, his eyes shut. Feeling exposed in my matching blue bra and knickers, I lay on a flat rock nearby and shut my eyes.

‘So what’s a ‘‘tee vee’’?’ he asked after a while.

‘Television,’ I said. ‘You watch movies and documentar­ies and the news on it.’

‘So it’s a com-screen?’

‘What’s a com-screen?’

‘You know the big screen on the wall in your room? That’s a com-screen. You can use it to call people and find out information about anything and watch movies.’

‘Right. So it’s a TV and a phone and the internet all-in-one.’

‘If you say so.’

‘The twenty-second century isn’t so different from the twenty-first century. Just enough to make me feel stupid.’

‘I’ll be your guide to the twenty-second century. Any questions, just ask.’

‘I have a million questions.’

‘Shoot.’

‘So is America still the most powerful nation in the world? Or let me guess – is it China?’

‘America is still the most powerful country in the world. However, not the America you’re thinking of.’

I waited for him to continue.

‘The United States of America no longer exists. Most of what was once the United States, together with Canada and Alaska all now comprise the Federation of North America.’

‘Really? Canada and America together?’

‘Around the middle of the last century, climate change really hit America. A lot of farmland became too dry to farm. At the same time, Canada became much more suitable for farming. And then when the Arctic ice melted, everyone wanted to claim territory in the Arctic Ocean. By joining forces with Canada, America was able to do that, as well as putting in a claim for Greenland.’

‘What happened to China?’ I asked.

‘China was the most powerful nation until about 2048. But climate change forced them to focus on feeding their population.’

‘Anything else I should know?’

‘Depends what interests you. Politics? Economics? The law?’

‘Tell me about the Guardians of Time. I know a little, but not much.’

‘There are five of them. In many ways, they have more power than the president, parliament and the supreme court together. They approve missions to the past and future and try all cases that come to the Time Court. Every two years one of the Guardians is elected president of the Space and Time Institute. The president sets the agenda for the next two years. Right now is election time. If Admiral Wolfe wins the presidency, there will be no time travel. He’s dead set against it. If Westland wins, time travel will still be allowed.’

‘And they’re the people who will decide what happens to Ryan?’

‘One of them will judge his case.’

‘Which one?’

‘I think they all get their quota of cases to try. Obviously Admiral Westland won’t be allowed to judge the case because it concerns his son.’

I let that information sink in. It was a long way from my world. ‘How long have you and Ryan known each other?’ I asked, after a while.

‘Since we were twelve. Middle school. We had the same art class. He did portraits. I did mythical creatures.’ He held his arm out to me. ‘These are all mine.’

I resisted the urge to reach out and run my fingers over his tattoos. ‘They’re good.’

‘We both loved drawing but we loved flying even more. We applied to Lakeborough Academy at the same time.’

‘Did he always want to be a pilot?’

‘He wanted to be a time agent. Just like his dad. It’s why he volunteered for the mission to your time.’

‘What about you? What do you want?’

‘I want adventure. Look at Orion. He’s travelled back to 2012 twice over. He’s helped save the planet from some unknown catastrophe. I know he’s locked up right now, but soon he’ll be free again. And you. You’ve saved the Earth and travelled forward in time. You’ve both lived. I want to live like that. I don’t want to follow my dad into some dull nine-to-five job and worry about meeting my mortgage payments every month.’ He sat up. ‘Speaking of adventure, how do you feel about doing something adventurous right now?’

I laughed a short, nervous laugh. ‘I’m not brave at all.’

‘It only lasts about two seconds, it will get your adrenalin pumping and it’s completely safe. I promise.’

I sat up. The sun was harsh. Already my underwear was bone dry. I pulled off my blonde wig and shook out my hair. ‘What is it?’

‘We jump from the top of the waterfall into the pool below.’

Of all the things Peg could have suggested, he’d managed to pick my biggest fear.

‘I nearly drowned. Twice.’

Did he know that? Had Ryan told him?

‘I promise you won’t get hurt. It’s much easier than climbing back down over the rocks.’

I didn’t want to be afraid. I wanted so much to be brave and strong and good at things. I had jumped through time. Jumping from a waterfall should be so much easier.

Peg took my dress and wig and dropped them on to the dry rocks below. He held out a hand. ‘If you want, we can jump together.’

I shook my head. ‘No.’

He drew his hand back. ‘Not a big deal. We can climb down.’

‘No, I meant I don’t want to hold your hand. I’ll do this myself.’

He cocked his head to the side. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Are you sure it’s deep enough?’

‘It’s over thirty metres deep.’

Swallowing the terror that was making its way up my throat, I inched my way to the edge of the waterfall.

‘You first,’ said Peg. ‘I don’t want to jump and then have to climb back up and get you.’

I didn’t look down. I knew that if I did, the dizziness would paralyse me. I shut my eyes and counted backwards.

Three.

Images of the rocks by the harbour wall flashed through my mind.

Two.

Of Travis swimming after me and pushing me under. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to die.

One.

I jumped. I fell through the air, my arms both shooting up above me, reaching for the sky. Someone shrieked and I realised it was me. And then, abruptly, a bitter coldness exploded over my skin from my toes to my scalp. I kicked my legs, swam towards the bright sunshine and gasped the warm air.

Peg whooped as he jumped, tumbling forwards, his hands hitting the water first in a graceful dive.

When he re-emerged, he shook his head like a dog. ‘What do you think?’ he shouted.

‘It was good,’ I said.

A complete understatement. My body was trembling from the buzz of it. The sick thrill of stepping off the edge, the rush of free-falling, the stream of adrenalin gushing through my veins. I’d never felt so energised, so scared and exhilarated at the same time. But most of all: I’d never felt so brave.

‘That was impressive,’ said Peg. He’d reached the edge of the pool and was clambering out. ‘I’ve been here many times but I’ve never known anyone take their first jump so quickly.’

I shrugged and tried not to smile. ‘If I’d thought about it, I’d never have done it,’ I said, bending down to pick up my clothes. ‘Come on.’

I led the way back down the mountain path in my underwear, letting the warm air and dappled sunlight dry my skin.

The journalists outside the Lakeview Hotel were showing no signs of giving up and going home.

‘You are the only news story right now,’ said Peg quietly as he pulled into a parking space on the opposite side of the street. ‘You and Ryan.’

‘Can you help me with the wig?’ I asked.

I bundled my hair into a bun and held it in place while Peg pulled the wig over it.

‘Almost perfect,’ he said, as he moved a wayward strand of wig hair into place.

‘Thanks for rescuing me today,’ I said. ‘I think I’d have gone mad if I’d stayed in my room any longer.’

He passed me the sunglasses. ‘You’ll need these.’

I slipped the glasses on to my face and checked out my reflection in the rear-view mirror. I Iooked so unlike myself. ‘Thank your friend for the wig. When will she need it back?’

‘There’s no rush. Belle has loads of wigs.’ He hesitated, as though reaching a decision about something. ‘I’m going out with a few friends tomorrow tonight. It would be great if you’d come along. Everyone would love to meet you.’

‘Thanks. What should I wear?’

‘It’s just a bar. Wear anything you like. There’s no dress code.’

‘I don’t know what casual looks like in the twenty-second century.’

‘This dress is perfect. Anything like this would be fine.’

He told me he would pick me up at eight, from my room. I heard him start his car as I crossed the road, but he didn’t pull away until I had thrust my way through the reporters and into the lobby.