Chasing Stars (20 page)

‘Speculation!’ said White Suit.

‘Let the witness answer,’ said Admiral Wolfe. ‘I’m curious.’

I stared at my screen. ‘Because he thought it was wrong for me to be killed by the mission cleaner. There was no need. I wasn’t a threat to the timeline. The mission leader – Benjamin Hansen – didn’t feel I was a threat. And the mission would have failed if it wasn’t for me.’

My screen remained in the green zone.

‘You don’t think it was because he was in love with you?’

‘No,’ I said. My voice shook and my screens registered amber.

Ryan’s lawyer noticed my amber response too. He frowned and then smiled broadly.

‘So let’s back up,’ he said. ‘You believe that Orion travelled back to 2012 because he knew that you had made an exceptional contribution to the mission and did not therefore deserve to be killed by the mission cleaner.’

‘Yes,’ I said, though it had been a statement, not a question.

Saul White nodded solemnly. ‘Miss Anfield, why did the mission cleaner kill you?’

‘Objection!’ said White Suit. ‘This is speculation.’

‘We can’t put the mission cleaner on the stand and ask him,’ said Ryan’s lawyer, ‘because he’s dead.’

‘Objection sustained,’ said Wolfe.

‘Let me rephrase the question. Miss Anfield, why do you believe the mission cleaner killed you?’

I knew what he was asking me. This was my chance. ‘He didn’t understand the role I had played,’ I said. ‘Without me, the mission would have failed. Benjamin Hansen knew that and so did Orion. That’s why Orion came back for me. I saved the future; I was not a threat.’

‘No further questions, Your Honour.’

‘Thank you, Miss Anfield,’ said Wolfe. ‘You can step down from the witness box.’

Chapter 13

Back in my hotel room, I hung my suit in the wardrobe and changed into something more comfortable, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I lay on the bed and scanned the com-screen till I found a news channel.

They were speculating about events inside the courtroom. It was a closed trial, and none of the reporters had a clue what was actually going on. I saw myself arriving and leaving. The usual comments about star-crossed lovers were made. I saw Cassie arrive and leave, and Ben. A woman who was identified as Travis Deckard’s widow was the only witness who spoke to the camera. She accused Ryan of murdering her husband so he could be with his girlfriend.

I needed to get out. I tucked my hair inside the baseball cap Peg had lent me and crept out the back door of the hotel. So far this was still safe. The hotel backed on to a lane filled with service trucks and the stench of overflowing dustbins. Holding my breath, I hurried to the end of the lane and made my way back to the main road. A quick glance over my shoulder told me the press was still hanging around outside the front of the hotel. I’d done it.

I strolled to the waterfront and watched the pleasure boats for a few minutes. If I’d had cash instead of the stupid flexi-card that announced my identity to the world, I might have bought myself an ice cream and stayed there longer. I didn’t want an ice cream enough to trade in my anonymity.

I left the waterfront and wandered slowly through the backstreets of Lakeborough. Whereas the main streets were wide and clean and felt like they could have been any city anywhere, the backstreets had a different feel altogether. There were fruit and vegetable markets along one lane, a flower market along another, hot food traders along a third. The lanes smelt of rotting vegetables and rose petals, of sharp blueberries and fried rice. My stomach rumbled and I realised I had completely forgotten to eat lunch. It was half past four by now. I probably would have started heading back to my hotel room to order some food, but I suddenly found myself outside the gambling den where Peg and I had hidden a few days ago. Peg’s apartment was only a couple of minutes away. I had no idea whether or not he would be working, but decided to give him a try.

The greasy noodle bar underneath his apartment had a busy afternoon trade. Children, dressed in a smart blue school uniform, queued up to buy a small tub of sweet cricket noodles. Once again I wished I had cash instead of the flexi-card; there was no way I was willing to sacrifice the secrecy of Peg’s apartment for a carton of greasy noodles.

The door to the apartment complex was open so I climbed the stairs and knocked loudly on Peg’s front door.

He answered the door dressed in nothing but a pair of brown trousers and a loose vest. His feet were bare and his hair was mussed up in such a way he looked like he’d just got out of bed.

‘Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I was just passing.’

Peg smiled. ‘I wasn’t sleeping. Come in.’

He held the door wide open for me. I crossed the threshold just as someone came wandering out of his bedroom dressed in nothing but a red satin bra and pants, a dress trailing across the floor in her hand, an unlit cigar in the other. Lyra.

My face burned. ‘You have company. I didn’t realise.’

‘Lyra’s just leaving,’ said Peg. ‘She has to get back to work.’

Lyra stared at me. She seemed unembarrassed by her near nakedness and perhaps if I’d had a body as lean and taut as hers, I wouldn’t have rushed to cover it up either.

‘She works around the corner,’ he said. ‘She comes here to do her physio during her break.’

‘How was the trial, Eden? I saw you on the com-screen,’ said Lyra. ‘Did you prove that you’re
exceptional
or whatever it is you’re supposed to be?’

‘I’m really not sure how it’s going,’ I said. ‘I was only allowed in the courtroom for my questions.’

‘What did they ask you?’ she said, as she slipped her dress over her underwear.

‘The prosecuting lawyer just focused on our relationship. He wasn’t interested in hearing the whole story. It had nothing to do with discovering the truth. All he wanted to do was prove that Ryan went back to 2012 because he loved me.’

Lyra straightened her dress. ‘That’s a given surely. That’s always been their angle.’

‘Ryan’s lawyer asked the right questions. I think he did a good job. But Wolfe is the judge.’

Lyra swore. ‘That is bad news. Anyone else and he’d have a fighting chance.’

‘It’s not over yet.’

‘Wolfe’s been all over the news saying that the children of wealthy, influential families should be treated no different to anyone else. I think he made his mind up before the trial began.’

‘He can’t do that. He has to listen to the arguments,’ I said.

She grabbed her bag from the floor. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Eden. After the verdict. Are we meeting at your hotel?’

‘Yes, at the hotel.’

Peg walked her to the door. ‘Come here as soon as you finish work and I’ll drive us to the Lakeview.’

‘OK,’ she said, placing one hand on his shoulder. She glanced at me and I quickly looked away. ‘See you later, Pegasus.’

The door slammed shut and I turned back to Peg.

‘I’m so sorry I interrupted the two of you. I didn’t realise –’

‘You didn’t interrupt us,’ said Peg, walking towards me. ‘We were finished before you got here. Lyra was leaving.’

‘Right. So does she usually do her physio in her underwear?’

‘She wears shorts and a T-shirt. She was just changing – it’s not the way it looked.’

I held up my hands. ‘It’s none of my business.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Lyra is not interested in me.’

I smirked. ‘She called you cute.’

‘From what I remember, that was a backhanded compliment – something about slumming it?’

‘She likes you.’

He turned away. ‘I’m not interested in Lyra, Eden. For a start, she’s Orion’s ex-girlfriend. That would be weird.’

My heart raced. ‘What?’

‘They were together for over a year. That’s a long time. I wouldn’t be comfortable. But it’s irrelevant, anyway, because I’m not interested and she’s not interested.’

‘Peg,’ I said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that Lyra used to date Ryan?’

He shrugged. ‘I dunno. It never came up.’

‘It never occurred to you that I might want to know that?’

‘No.’

‘Is that why she doesn’t like me?’

Peg threw himself down on one of the couches. ‘She doesn’t dislike you. She’s just not the warm and cuddly sort.’

My stomach tied itself in knots.

‘What does it matter?’ said Peg. ‘It’s old news. Ry broke up with her before he even accepted the mission to 2012.’

‘That’s something, I guess.’

Peg yawned and stretched. ‘I’m starving. Shall I get some take-out from downstairs?’

It was getting dark outside. Peg was stretched out on the couch, one eye on a baseball game playing on the com-screen, the other on a maths problem he was working on for college. I was reading a fashion magazine that Lyra had left behind, despite the fact that fashion had never interested me. I dropped the magazine on the floor and checked to see if Peg was still working.

‘I can put something else on,’ he said, when he caught me looking at him. ‘I can find out the score later.’

I shook my head. ‘I should probably leave, anyway. You’ve got work to do.’

Peg dropped his essay on the floor and sat up. ‘I’ll drive you. I need a break from the mathematics of portal creation – it makes my head hurt. I can drop by the shipyard on my way back.’

‘What exactly is your job?’ I asked.

Peg stood up and stretched. ‘Why don’t I show you?’

His car was parked a couple of streets away, wedged between a fire hydrant and large recycling container.

He checked his rear-view mirror and groaned. ‘Belt up. We’re going to need to lose that lot.’

I turned around just as a camera flashed. Stupidly, I’d left the baseball cap at Peg’s.

‘How did they find out where you live?’ I asked.

‘I guess it was only a matter of time.’

He whipped around the corner and took several quick turns, navigating the back streets of Lakeborough rapidly. Once he was sure that no one was on our tail, Peg headed for the highway out of town, the same highway that led to the Space and Time Institute. The large building glimmered under its lights, a white fortress against the dark sky.

Peg turned off the highway a couple of miles out of town and we drove along a single lane road that was surrounded by trees.

‘I promise you, this is going to be the most spectacular thing you have ever seen or done in your life,’ he said.

‘You seem very confident.’

‘If you’re not blown away, you have no soul.’

A few minutes later we pulled up to a security checkpoint. Peg handed over a pass.

‘Can I get a visitor’s pass for my friend?’ he asked. ‘I’m gonna put in some flight time. She’ll be in the viewing area.’

The woman glanced at me and passed over a lanyard with a bright red
Visitor
sign hanging from it. ‘Wear this at all times,’ she said.

He continued driving, slowly, our windows wound down. The road was narrow and we were surrounded by trees, their trunks gently creaking in the light breeze.

‘This is where you work?’

‘Yeah. I’m going to take you to the repair yard. I’m training to be an engineer. One of the perks is that I get some flight time. It helps to supplement the time I get at the Academy. The Elite students get most of the flight time there. This helps me to keep up.’

The road split and he took the left turn. We passed a sign that said
Repairs
and kept driving.

‘This place is huge,’ I said.

‘Nearly there.’

A couple of minutes later he parked the car next to an ugly concrete office block. A large sign said
All visitors must report to reception and remain in the building at all times
.

‘Let’s go,’ said Peg, locking the car.

He started walking across the yard, a torch in his left hand lighting the ground in front of him.

‘Shouldn’t I report to the reception?’ I asked, pointing at the sign.

‘Technically. But then you wouldn’t get to see the ship I’ve been working on.’ He grabbed my arm. ‘Come on.’

‘Won’t we get seen?’

‘No. This place is huge. All the important equipment is at the front near security. Out here, it’s just old ships, waiting for repair or to be sold for parts.’

We jogged across the yard until we reached a gate in a metal fence. Peg swiped his ID card through the gate key reader. At once, it swung open.

‘I can’t afford to get in any trouble,’ I said.

‘Stop worrying. I’m allowed to be here. And no one knows that you’re here.’

We entered another yard, Peg’s torch beam illuminating several ships until he found the one he wanted. They were all about the size of a small bus. The one Peg selected was gunmetal grey, and shaped like a giant bug.

‘This is a lovely little ship,’ he said. ‘Known in the trade as a space hopper, because she’s only used for little hops to the Inter-Planetary Spaceport. She’s still got lots of life left in her. I spent the last six weeks helping the engineer tweak her engines. Isn’t she lovely?’