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

My Varya, she did not like this story. Shetold me she was no longer a child who could be scared by silly oldstories. She left in a great hurry that day. But when she cameback, she told me her own story. She called it ‘science’ and spokeof ‘life spans’. But, as far as I could tell, it all amounted towhat the old king was told. Your time will come when it is yourtime.

And so, I knew what I had to do.

I had to find out when it would be our Kir’stime. Because if I did not, my Varya could spend the rest of hertime, and mine too, trying to outrun the inescapable. Do I regretthe consequences of my actions? Yes, of course I do. But I did whatI thought was right. I did what I had to do for my Varya andKir.

Chapter forty

Varya

Varya strode into the small room adjacent to the mainlaboratory and pressed the door shut behind her. She peered overConnor’s shoulder.

“That’s Professor Langford’s research. Whyaren’t you working on the transfer device?”

Connor looked up, surprised and blinking. Heshook his head a little and went back to the papers before him.Varya stood above him and crossed her arms. Eventually he sighedsoftly and looked up, his head tipped to one side.

“They’re nearly there,” he pointed out.“They don’t need me.” He waited for her to contradict him. When shedidn’t, he bent his head back over the papers, his finger moving onits journey down to the bottom of the page again.

Varya pulled a chair over and sat, trying tokeep her shoulders straight in a seated stance of seniority. Connorwas right. She’d just been to visit the room full of talentedscientists and was astonished at the speed at which they’d workedthrough the problems. There was a near-constant buzz ofconversation from several self-formed groups, each of which hadtaken ownership of a particular element of the recreation. Beforeshe left, she’d given authorisation for the first build attempt tobegin. At this rate they would have a prototype in the next day ortwo. Unfortunately, they may not have time to test it out onanything other than a live subject. But Connor was right, he wasn’tneeded right now.

“Have you heard anything from theinvestigation?” Varya had kept her distance from Sebastian sincelast night, ignoring the several calls she’d received from him thismorning.

“Yes. Nothing new yet. They’re still‘pursuing leads’.” Connor kept his head down but raised hiseyebrows at the last two words and intonated them in such a way asto suggest that the investigators were doing something other thanwhat they said.

“They haven’t found Reg?”

“No. But if we can recreate the timetransfer tech, it won’t matter.”

Varya was silent.

Connor looked up and frowned. “It won’tmatter, will it?”

“No. No, it won’t matter,” she said quietly.She nodded towards the papers scattered over the table. “Foundanything?”

Connor leaned back and spread his hands overhis thighs, surveying the organised chaos. He glanced at his notesand scrolled up a little, then shook his head.

“Janet was a brilliant scientist.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And she’d been working on this for a longtime. Years, in fact.” Connor paused for effect. “She was verythorough.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’tknow, Connor.” Varya picked up the stack of papers closest to herand shuffled through them to hide her agitation.

“There were projects that were being workedon when I was at Rest Time Corps. They weren’t official—strictlyoff the books and out of the media’s eye—but they had their ownwing. It was locked down, entirely classified, and only a selectfew were given clearance to enter. I heard from a friend recentlythat some of the projects have had great success in finding whatthey were looking for.”

“You’re going to tell me that I should talkto Sebastian, aren’t you?”

“It’s the most direct way, yes. Your otheroptions are to try to poach staff from Rest Time Corps and get themto come and work here on similar projects and hope they’ll be…flexible enough to find the answers you’re seeking. Or you canresort to non-legal avenues. Of course, both of those options willtake much longer and carry greater risk.” He tried to catch Varya’seye, but she was studying the papers intently. He noticed she’dread a single page several times. “It’s your call.”

“The other two options don’t involve tellingSebastian.”

“Varya, he’s going to find out eventually.Once you get Kir out of there, he’ll want to see his son. And he’llwant to know… everything.”

“You’re assuming he’ll get to see his sonagain.”

“What?” The word escaped Connor’s mouthbefore it had time to consult his brain.

“You heard me.”

“Varya, you can’t be serious,” he saidsoftly. This wasn’t the Varya his aunt had told him about. Or maybeit was. Her single goal had become protecting her son. Andprotecting her son appeared to have morphed into keeping her sonaway from everyone who might have any interest in anything otherthan keeping him alive.

“Sebastian would have the best ofintentions. But the thirst for knowledge—maybe not his, but RestTime Corps’—would override everything else. Including Kir’swellbeing. It’s just the way it is. It’s just the way we are.” Thewave of her hand encompassed the room of scientists next door,Connor and even herself. “It was the way I was, before I had Kir tothink of.”

Connor contemplated this for a moment. Hedidn’t think it was the way he was. But perhaps he’d spent too longworking with the kids who had died at the hands of the time thievesall those years ago. It had certainly changed him in ways hecouldn’t articulate. He swallowed and nodded.

“I’ll keep looking through these papers, seeif there are any gaps, any avenues that could be explored.”

Varya stood and returned the chair to itsoriginal resting place.

“And that friend of yours? From Rest TimeCorps?”

“Yes?”

“Feel free to let them know we’re lookingfor new staff. And we pay generously.”

Connor nodded and watched Varya straightenherself and stride back out of the room, shutting the door behindher.

Chapter forty-one

Zoe

It had been a long day and Zoe had been very muchlooking forward to escaping from the hospital to visit her son.Keeping up the charade of being a grieving mother was almost astraumatic as actually being