‘Morning,’ Safa replies, already eating at the table. ‘Coffee’s here.’
‘Thanks,’ Emily says cheerfully. Too cheerfully. She takes fruit from the bowl, grabs a plate and heads over to the table. ‘Another one?’ Emily asks, lifting the flask of coffee.
‘Cheers.’
‘You’re probably tired.’ Emily lowers the flask and peers at Safa, as though examining her. ‘I’m looking for a warm afterglow.’
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Safa says, shaking her head.
‘Got up for a wee in the night.’
‘Did you?’
‘Your door was open.’
‘Was it?’
‘And your bed was empty, you hussy . . .’
‘Morning,’ Ben calls out, walking in with a brief wave. ‘Coffee on?’
‘Damn it,’ Emily mutters.
‘Flask here,’ Safa says.
‘Morning, Ben,’ Emily says.
‘Morning, Emily. You okay?’
‘Aye,’ Emily says deeply at seeing Harry walking in.
‘Aye,’ Harry says with a smile at her.
‘Coffee’s here,’ Safa says. ‘We’ll practise the house assault for the morning, then do marksman drills for you, Ben.’
‘Awesome,’ Ben says, taking two mugs from the big table over to Emily and Safa. ‘I spoke to Miri last night, while we were waiting for Ria.’
‘Listening to her having sex, you mean,’ Safa says.
‘And that,’ Ben says, ignoring the edge to her voice.
Safa pauses with the knife peeling the skin from the orange. Emily sits down. Harry comes over to lift the flask and start pouring.
‘Ria here yet?’ Ben asks.
‘Not yet,’ Emily says, glancing round to the door leading to the smaller corridor.
‘Miri said they’ll torture her mother if she’s taken alive, same with all their friends . . . everyone that ever knew them.’
‘They will,’ Emily says.
Safa looks up, frowning slightly. ‘Can’t she just go forward and see.’
‘No point,’ Ben says. ‘Time isn’t fixed.’
‘Don’t get it,’ Safa says, peeling the fruit.
Harry sits down and leans back, listening as he always does, intently and quietly.
‘If we go forward now and see what they’re doing after the house assault, we’ll see one thing,’ Ben says, ‘but what they do will change pending what we do. Miri’s got it into my head and it makes sense: we create the time now and make it bend to what we want.’
‘Bend? Bend what?’ Safa asks.
‘Not bend – bad word to explain,’ Ben says sitting down. ‘Miri said we have to stop a government, but . . . well, it’s not just one, is it? We’re dealing with more than one government. UK, US, Russia, China . . . Fuck knows who else . . .’
‘All of them,’ Emily says.
‘How?’ Safa asks. ‘There’s five of us, including Miri, and she’s not combat-ready.’
‘I’ll sit down with Miri tonight and go through it,’ he says thoughtfully.
‘Makes sense,’ Harry says.
‘What does?’ Ben asks him.
‘We have a time machine,’ Harry says simply. ‘They can’t have it. Controlled aggression. Best way. Bad things happen in war. You said the Yanks dropped a big bomb in Japan.’
‘Nuclear bomb,’ Ben says with a nod.
‘Ended the war?’
‘Certainly helped,’ Emily says while Ben thinks on the question.
‘Yanks dropped a big bomb and killed many, but saved more,’ Harry says. ‘That’s what war is.’
‘Guess so,’ Ben says with a smile. ‘At least we’re not planning that.’
‘Planning what?’ Harry asks.
‘Dropping a nuclear bomb on Roland’s house.’
‘Why not?’
‘Fuck, Harry,’ Ben says.
‘Ach, listen to Miri,’ Harry says, leaning over to steal an orange from Safa’s bowl. She offers the knife, which he takes to start peeling. ‘We’re not going to stop a government with a few rifles now, are we?’
‘Morning, morning.’ Doctor Watson bustles in, heading for the table while rubbing his hands together. ‘Coffee on, is it? Slept on the island last night, I did. Went for an after-dinner snooze in the hammock and woke up to see Bertie mapping the constellations. Portal was closed, so I stayed there. Where’s the coffee? Ah, over there, is it? Morning, Emily! So I went back to sleep, and this morning he wakes me up going on about something. Of course, I had just woken up, so didn’t have a clue what he was on about.’ He empties the last of the flask into a mug. ‘Turns out he has calculated the time period we are in on the island . . .’ He lifts the mug to sip, and gives a satisfied groan. ‘To the year, I might add. The clever sod has worked it out. No telescope. Nothing. Just the stars and geology, and what not. I came through just now and checked the date on the tablet. Blighter’s bloody right too.’
‘Seriously?’ Ben asks.
‘Oh, yes,’ the doctor says, sitting down.
‘Maybe he saw the date on the tablet,’ Emily says. ‘He’s been through enough times.’
‘Bertie wouldn’t think to look,’ the doctor says. ‘He’d say that’s, like, totally cheating. So that’s our genius at work, and that was all done while he works on the second time machine and tries to work out how to get radio signals through the displacement field.’
‘We could have one permanently open to the island then,’ Emily says. ‘And one we use for whatever.’
‘Did I miss anything last night?’ Doctor Watson asks, stealing an orange from Emily’s bowl as Harry hands the knife over.
Ben smiles into his coffee mug. Emily suddenly looks up and away. Harry whistles softly.
‘Twats,’ Safa says. ‘Ria had sex with a boy from McDonald’s.’
‘Oh,’ Doctor Watson says, peeling the orange.
‘Didn’t something else happen?’ Emily asks innocently, widening her eyes, as though trying to think. ‘I’m sure there was something else . . .’
‘This bunker is too small,’ Ben mutters as Ria walks in looking somewhat sheepish. ‘Hey, morning. Hangover?’
‘Nope, feel fine,’ she says.
‘To be young,’ the doctor says with a tut.
‘Sit down,’ Ben says. ‘I’ll make a fresh flask.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Ria says.
Life in the bunker rolls on. The morning after the night before in an enclosed environment, where small things stand out. Safa went to Ben’s room last night. Ria had sex with a boy from McDonald’s. Miri said they have to stop a government. Bertie worked out the year by looking at the stars as something to do in between building a second time machine.
Miri walks in, brisk and business-like in her manner. She takes a mug and sits down as Ria strolls over to take a seat with a defensive look etched on her face. ‘This where you tell me off?’
‘No,’ Miri says simply.
‘What the fuck?’ Safa asks, looking round the table. ‘Are we having a breakfast meeting or something?’
‘Yes,’ Miri says.
‘What for?’
‘To talk.’
‘Talk about what?’
‘Last night and . . .’
‘What about last night?’ Safa asks, the glare hardening instantly. ‘It’s my business if I want to get in bed with Ben. Got fuck all to do with . . . What? Why are you groaning?’ she asks Ben as he covers his face in his hands. ‘It’s got nothing to do with anyone. We didn’t have sex, so . . .’
‘Oh my god,’ Ben groans.
‘What!’
‘I didn’t mean that, Miss Patel, but thank you for sharing.’