Read Online TimeRiders: City of Shadows (Book 6) by Alex Scarrow - Free Book Online
Authors: Alex Scarrow
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about what they now both knew but
had yet to talk to each other about.
‘She told me,’ said Liam.
‘Maddy told me you’re …
me
.’ He shook his head.
‘Or I’m you, or however I’m meant to say it.’
‘I’m how you’ll become,
Liam. We’re the same person on either end of a number of years, lad.’
‘That’s what I can’t get me
head straight about, Mr Foster. It’s …’ He paused. ‘Or do I call
you Liam now?’
‘Just
Foster
,’ he
answered with a smile. ‘I’ve been used to that name for some time
now.’
‘So …’ Liam looked out of
the scuffed perspex window at a Greyhound bus, its windscreen striped with the reflected
glow of street lights passing overhead.
‘Do you remember all the same things
as me?’
‘Up to a point.’
‘Cork? St Michael’s School for
Boys?’
Foster nodded.
‘Sean McGuire and that stupid party
trick of his with the three apples?’
The old man grinned. ‘He was never
very good at it, was he?’
They both laughed. Liam felt odd. Memories,
personal memories that he hadn’t shared with anyone, and yet this man knew them as
intimately as he did. It was like talking to himself. Yet hearing a wizened, croaky
version of his own voice coming back at him.
‘You remember getting the
steward’s job with the White Star Line?’
‘Yes,’ Foster replied. ‘We
got the job only because that other Irish lad was caught drinking on duty before the
ship set sail. Remember his name?
Oliver
, wasn’t it?’
‘Aye.’ Liam smiled.
‘Stupid fella didn’t realize he was breathin’ his fumes all over the
Chief Steward.’
The RV halted in traffic, causing everyone
inside to lurch gently as Bob applied the brakes a little too keenly. A plastic bag full
of unlaundered underwear slid off a seat into the cluttered aisle.
‘So you remember that night as
well?’
Foster closed his eyes. ‘The night the
Titanic
went down? Ofcourse I do. How does anyone ever
forget something like that? I think what stays with me, Liam, what has stayed with me,
was the calm before all the screaming. When everyone was certain there’d be
lifeboats for all; that it wouldn’t come down to the type of ticket you’d
bought.’
‘Aye.’
‘It came suddenly, so it did. The
panic. You remember that?’
Liam nodded. It had. One moment
there’d been order and calm across the promenade deck, even the calming sound of a
string quartet playing. People talking excitedly about how this was going to be the news
story of the day tomorrow; how their eyewitness accounts – from the comfort of their
bobbing lifeboats – of the Unsinkable Ship slowly, gracefully surrendering to the sea
would be in every newspaper around the world. No panic. Not yet.
And then word had spread among them like
wildfire. Chinese whispers. Not enough lifeboats for everyone.
Not nearly
enough.
Then the panic. The horrible panic.
A thought occurred to Liam. ‘So,
Foster … were you recruited just like me? The same way?’
He could see a glint of light reflected in
Foster’s eyes. The glare of passing headlights on his drawn face. ‘Yes. Yes,
of course. I was down checking on the second-class cabins.’
‘And you were young, like
me?’
‘A bit younger than you are now,
Liam.’
Of course. Liam knew that. Felt that now. No
longer a young lad of sixteen, but subtly older in a million barely noticeable little
ways. A man, prematurely.
‘And was it an older version of
you … that recruited you?’
Foster hesitated. ‘Yes.’
‘But does that mean I’m in some
kind of a loop that goes on and on? That I’ll get old like you, change my name to
Foster,and then one day send myself back to 1912 to pick up another
me? Is that it?’
‘No. Not a loop exactly.’
‘Then what?’
Foster looked at Maddy sitting up front in
the passenger seat beside Bob. ‘She’s going to find out soon enough. If we
had yet to talk to each other about.
‘She told me,’ said Liam.
‘Maddy told me you’re …
me
.’ He shook his head.
‘Or I’m you, or however I’m meant to say it.’
‘I’m how you’ll become,
Liam. We’re the same person on either end of a number of years, lad.’
‘That’s what I can’t get me
head straight about, Mr Foster. It’s …’ He paused. ‘Or do I call
you Liam now?’
‘Just
Foster
,’ he
answered with a smile. ‘I’ve been used to that name for some time
now.’
‘So …’ Liam looked out of
the scuffed perspex window at a Greyhound bus, its windscreen striped with the reflected
glow of street lights passing overhead.
‘Do you remember all the same things
as me?’
‘Up to a point.’
‘Cork? St Michael’s School for
Boys?’
Foster nodded.
‘Sean McGuire and that stupid party
trick of his with the three apples?’
The old man grinned. ‘He was never
very good at it, was he?’
They both laughed. Liam felt odd. Memories,
personal memories that he hadn’t shared with anyone, and yet this man knew them as
intimately as he did. It was like talking to himself. Yet hearing a wizened, croaky
version of his own voice coming back at him.
‘You remember getting the
steward’s job with the White Star Line?’
‘Yes,’ Foster replied. ‘We
got the job only because that other Irish lad was caught drinking on duty before the
ship set sail. Remember his name?
Oliver
, wasn’t it?’
‘Aye.’ Liam smiled.
‘Stupid fella didn’t realize he was breathin’ his fumes all over the
Chief Steward.’
The RV halted in traffic, causing everyone
inside to lurch gently as Bob applied the brakes a little too keenly. A plastic bag full
of unlaundered underwear slid off a seat into the cluttered aisle.
‘So you remember that night as
well?’
Foster closed his eyes. ‘The night the
Titanic
went down? Ofcourse I do. How does anyone ever
forget something like that? I think what stays with me, Liam, what has stayed with me,
was the calm before all the screaming. When everyone was certain there’d be
lifeboats for all; that it wouldn’t come down to the type of ticket you’d
bought.’
‘Aye.’
‘It came suddenly, so it did. The
panic. You remember that?’
Liam nodded. It had. One moment
there’d been order and calm across the promenade deck, even the calming sound of a
string quartet playing. People talking excitedly about how this was going to be the news
story of the day tomorrow; how their eyewitness accounts – from the comfort of their
bobbing lifeboats – of the Unsinkable Ship slowly, gracefully surrendering to the sea
would be in every newspaper around the world. No panic. Not yet.
And then word had spread among them like
wildfire. Chinese whispers. Not enough lifeboats for everyone.
Not nearly
enough.
Then the panic. The horrible panic.
A thought occurred to Liam. ‘So,
Foster … were you recruited just like me? The same way?’
He could see a glint of light reflected in
Foster’s eyes. The glare of passing headlights on his drawn face. ‘Yes. Yes,
of course. I was down checking on the second-class cabins.’
‘And you were young, like
me?’
‘A bit younger than you are now,
Liam.’
Of course. Liam knew that. Felt that now. No
longer a young lad of sixteen, but subtly older in a million barely noticeable little
ways. A man, prematurely.
‘And was it an older version of
you … that recruited you?’
Foster hesitated. ‘Yes.’
‘But does that mean I’m in some
kind of a loop that goes on and on? That I’ll get old like you, change my name to
Foster,and then one day send myself back to 1912 to pick up another
me? Is that it?’
‘No. Not a loop exactly.’
‘Then what?’
Foster looked at Maddy sitting up front in
the passenger seat beside Bob. ‘She’s going to find out soon enough. If we
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