Stealing Time by Rebecca Bowyer (acx book reading .txt) 📕

sense there was more toAunt Varya, tried to pick her brains about what he knew was herspecialty, but she’d always pushed him away. In every other subjectshe was generous with her knowledge, but when it came to Rest TimeChips, she treated him like a kid who was too young to know.

Now it all made sense. She’d had Kir stashedaway, in suspended animation, for all this time. His oldplaymate—who he did kind of vaguely remember. Yappy Dog was whathad done it for him. He was sure Kir used to drag the stuffed toyto kindergarten with him every day. He remembered a kid with hairabout the same colour as Kir’s, and the voice—the voice was thesame too. But mostly it was that stuffed dog that he remembered,its droopy ears and chewed up tail.

He tried to focus on the cartoon in front ofhim, but it was such babyish stuff. Maybe he could ask Elena forsome of that Entiac draught that Kir had. He sighed, closed the DVDplayer, and put it on the bedside table. Whose apartment was this,anyway? He didn’t recognise it and thought he probably would haveif it was Kir and Aunt Varya’s old place. Maybe it was Elena’s. Thebedroom he’d been allocated definitely had a ‘guest room’ vibe toit. There were piles of old magazines in one corner, acream-coloured box with the word ‘Singer’ on the side, and half adozen framed pictures pushed against the wall. Apart from thesingle bed and bedside table, it looked pretty much like thedumping ground for everything else in this otherwise neat home.

Daniel went to the door of the room, pressedhis ear against it, and listened. Elena had told him to stay hereuntil she told him it was morning, time to come out. She didn’tseem like the kind of person you’d want to cross; an old-fashionedparent-type who would probably actually yell at you if youdisobeyed her. Not like the parents he knew, who all wanted to sitdown and have discussions about your feelings. Like the old TVshows he’d seen where the parents—usually the father—laid down therules and everyone had to follow them. Or else. The ‘or else’ partwas always a bit vague, but Varya told him (out of his mother’s earshot) that kids used to get hit if they misbehaved.

He didn’t think Elena would hit him, butwhat if he needed to go to the toilet? That was a legitimate reasonto leave his room, surely? Maybe she’d have some other DVDs hecould borrow that were a bit more interesting. Even somedocumentaries, maybe, or he could ask to have a look at the bookson the bookshelf in the living room.

There was that smell again, the burning.What if there was a fire? Another legitimate reason to leave theroom. He looked down at the gap underneath the door. No smoke. Hetouched the door. It wasn’t hot. He pressed down the long doorhandle slowly, bracing for a squeak, and pulled at the door. Hetook a deep breath and peered through the small gap he’d made, hisheart thumping. Then he jumped back and slammed the door. Elena wasout there, in the hallway.

“Daniel? Are you okay in there?” Her voicecame muffled through the door.

He held his breath and listened to the softfall of her footsteps as they came closer. At the sound of herknock he took a step backwards. The door opened slowly. His eyeswere wide.

“Daniel.” She smiled at him and his heartstarted to slow to its normal pace. He was being a stupid kid,jumping at shadows. This was Kir’s grandma, she wasn’t going tohurt him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, dear. Why don’t youcome out to the living room and I’ll make you some hot cocoa?” Sheleft the door open and beckoned for him to follow her. He hesitatedthen took slow steps behind her. “I’m sorry, dear, I realise now itwas too much to ask of you to simply shut yourself away and waitout the night. You’re probably used to constant action where youcome from. Kir and I have grown so used to making the hoursstretch, amusing ourselves with small things.”

Daniel stood in the living room doorway andwatched as she bustled about, collecting mugs from this cupboardand chocolate powder from that one.

Elena turned. “Sit, dear, sit.”

Daniel did as he was told and sat, placinghis hands on the table. It seemed the polite thing to do.

“I haven’t even asked you, have I?” shesaid.

“Asked me?” said Daniel.

“What illness you’ve been suffering.” Shelooked at him expectantly, teaspoon raised in one hand, powderedchocolate tin in the other. He examined her face and thought he sawpity, but it was always hard to tell with adults, especially olderones.

“I’m not sick.”

Elena’s face darkened a moment but then sheseemed to change her mind. “I’m sorry to pry, I was just looking tomake some conversation. Why don’t you tell me about your life outthere instead?” She waved her spoon in the general direction of thehallway and the Time Lock’s portal. “What do you do with your time?What do other kids your age do with their time? Are they still intothe same computer games?”

Daniel stared at her as realisation dawned.Varya hadn’t told Elena about the time thieves. Elena must think hehad cancer or something, like Kir. He opened his mouth to explainto her. Maybe Varya just hadn’t had the time. But the moment hadpassed, and she was now saying something about Sonic the Hedgehogand arcade games, back in her own childhood. He peered over hisshoulder and down the hallway, hoping his mum would returnsoon.

Chapter thirty-five

Varya

Varya stood at the front of the largest laboratory atthe Minor Miracles Foundation, seven scientists seated at scatteredbenches around the room.

“This is a paper-only project,” she said.“No digital note-taking, no emailing, no online databases. We’vebeen entrusted with this material by the Rest Time Corps and wewill ensure that nothing related to this leaves this room. Is thatclear?”

Connor weaved his way slowly around theroom, distributing manila folders of photocopied material. Insideeach folder were copies of the notes Varya had obtained from theRest Time Corps archive alongside a summary of everything sheremembered about the