‘Is Ben coming? Ben, are you coming?’ Bertie asks.
‘Right behind you, mate,’ Ben says, reaching out to grab Safa’s hand before she can dart off. ‘Safa’s coming too. She wants to see it.’
Ria follows behind them to the shack. She’s seen it already, but feels the same ever-present sense of protectiveness over her brother.
Bertie leads Emily over, gabbling furiously while constantly turning to check Ben is still coming. They cram into the shack. Ben and Emily going in with Bertie while Safa, Ria and the doctor gather by the door.
One side of the main room given over to tables. Hologram computer programs shining from tablets; images hovering in the air with reams of binary code and what looks like hieroglyphics. Scraps of paper everywhere. Chewed pencils. Notepads. Sheets pinned to the walls with sketches and diagrams or full of block text written in hand.
‘Jesus, Bertie,’ Ben says in genuine surprise on seeing the small, red square of light at the end of the table. The pattern is the same. The way it shimmers and seems alive with a solid wall of colour, but red instead of blue, and the size of an old computer monitor.
‘Epic.’
‘Bertie. Is that a time machine?’ Ben asks. ‘Has Miri seen it?’
‘She has – she comes over all the time,’ Ria says from the door.
‘Er, no,’ Bertie says.
‘Pardon?’ Ben asks.
‘Eh? What? What is? What that? No,’ Bertie says, gabbling in his excitement of showing Ben.
‘Can I touch it?’ Ben asks.
‘Like, totally.’
Ben stretches his hand out to the red light. No heat, no sensation at all. He leans over and sees his hand coming out the back.
‘Er, so is it working then?’ Ben asks.
‘Displacement field’s off,’ Bertie says, nodding eagerly. ‘It’s, like, totally the same as the other one, but, you know, testing it . . . Electromagnetic pulses don’t go through, so . . .’
Ria clears her throat and leans in through the door. ‘Bertie is testing it to push radio signals and cellular waves through . . . I mean, they don’t go through the time machine now, do they?’
‘Oh, mate,’ Ben says, ‘that’s brilliant.’
‘S’binary,’ Bertie mutters, still grinning at Ben.
‘Well done, mate,’ Ben says.
‘It’s, like, red,’ Bertie says. ‘Cos, like, the other one is blue.’
‘It’s, er, yeah,’ Ben says.
‘Finished your woodbine?’ Emily asks as Harry looms behind Ria and Safa.
‘Aye,’ the big man says, slightly confused at the question.
‘Got a surprise for you,’ Emily says.
‘For me? Harry asks.
‘Aye,’ Emily says deeply.
‘What?’ Ben asks.
‘You’ll see,’ Emily says. ‘We heading back in?’
They stroll down the path with everyone asking what the surprise is and Emily grinning, but refusing to say.
In the portal room, Ria slips out ahead of the others to fetch the tablet and bags of popcorn. She walks back into the main room to see Emily telling Harry to sit down and make himself comfortable on the huge red leather sofa. The big man complies easily, stretching his legs out with a wry smile as Emily winks at Ria. Ben, Safa and the doctor take seats. Miri stays by the door, curious, but not part of it.
‘Popcorn?’ Emily asks.
‘Here,’ Ria says, holding the bags out. ‘Sweet, salted . . . Some toffee too.’
‘Popcorn?’ Ben asks. ‘We watching a movie then?’
‘Movie?’ Harry asks, looking round the room. ‘No screen.’
Emily takes the popcorn to distribute, then tucks herself on the sofa next to Harry. ‘You’ll love this,’ she tells him.
Ria switches the tablet on and sets it down. She looks up at everyone sitting and watching expectantly, and realises her brother has come through and is already eating popcorn while staring in awe at Harry and Ben.
‘Ready?’ Ria asks Emily.
‘Ready,’ Emily says, clearly pleased.
‘Lights, please, Miri,’ Ria says. Miri flicks the lights off. The room drops to a darkness broken only by the glowing light of the tablet. Ria presses the screen and moves away swiftly before the hologram image of the old Warner Bros logo blooms out in the air above the screen. Music plays. Harry grins. Ben and Safa say something. Bertie laughs with delight. The Warner Bros logo fades to be replaced with a perfect 3D image of a night sky with a moon shining far in the distance and a large bird of prey perched on a road sign for Privet Drive.
‘Bloody hell,’ Ben gasps. ‘No way.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Emily says. ‘They converted it to 3D a few years ago. Cost them a fortune.’
An old, bearded man comes into view. Harry sputters, leaning forward to glare. ‘Dumbledore!’ he roars. ‘That’s Dumbledore . . .’
Emily settles back with a huge grin as Harry continues to watch in fascination at Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone playing out in the main room of the bunker.
‘Ria?’ Emily calls, on seeing the girl heading towards the door. ‘Come and sit down, have some popcorn.’
‘I’ve seen it, like, a hundred times,’ Ria says, feeling a jarring rush of emotions, being genuinely happy at Harry’s reaction, but not wanting to sit and join them. Like she doesn’t belong. An outsider, not a team member. They all have important roles. The only thing Ria can do is cook food, wash their clothes and buy supplies.
‘Ah, come on,’ Ben says.
‘Got some stuff to do. Enjoy,’ Ria says. She walks out of the room to see Miri in her office. She clears her throat, feeling that instant sense of discomfort at being in Miri’s presence. The older woman looks up to fix those cold eyes on her.
‘I’ll do the laundry.’
Miri doesn’t say anything.
‘Er . . . so . . . is it okay if I hang out for a bit and come back later?’
Miri looks at her, weighing up the question. ‘Hang out?’
Ria shrugs. She’s in her twenties. She doesn’t need to ask permission. Miri makes her feel like a child. ‘Get a coffee while the washing’s on. You know, just, er . . . walk around, maybe get some things for the bunker . . .’ She trails off. Awkward and uncomfortable.
‘You are an adult, Miss Cavendish. You are free to hang out, but I have to impose a time restriction for the security of the device and the bunker. Three hours enough?’
‘Sure,’ Ria says.
‘Money,’ Miri says, walking across her office to a big chest in the corner. She lifts the lid, takes a wad of notes and carries them back to Ria. ‘Enough?’
‘There’s, like, five grand there, Miri,’ Ria says, looking at the wad.
‘Want more?’
‘No, no, that’s fine,’ Ria says, taking the money. ‘Thank you.’
‘You know the rules, Miss Cavendish.’
‘I do,’ Ria says.
‘What are the rules, Miss Cavendish?’
‘No single large purchases without a backstory. Don’t draw attention. Make sure I am not followed, but if I am, then come straight back here or go to the local police station and wait for you.’