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Chapters (52)
  1. Title
  2. Copyright
  3. About the Book
  4. About the Author
  5. Also By
  6. Contents
  7. Dedication
  8. Roll Call
  9. A Brief History of the Time Wars
  10. Jane
  11. Luke
  12. Matthew
  13. 1
  14. 2
  15. 3
  16. 4
  17. 5
  18. 6
  19. 7
  20. 8
  21. 9
  22. 10
  23. 11
  24. 12
  25. 13
  26. 14
  27. 15
  28. 16
  29. 17
  30. 18
  31. 19
  32. 20
  33. 21
  34. 22
  35. 23
  36. 24
  37. 25
  38. 26
  39. 27
  40. 28
  41. 29
  42. 30
  43. 31
  44. 32
  45. 33
  46. 34
  47. 35
  48. 36
  49. 37
  50. Epilogue
  51. Author’s Note
  52. A Note on Recruitment

‘Start the clock.’

The clock began to strike the eleventh hour. There was more to this than ceremony, Jane knew. This was the Time Police demonstrating their defiance of Time. Stopping the clock to honour their dead.

Captain Farenden picked up the book. Someone else removed the lectern, and by the time the last chime had died away, the atrium was empty.

16

16

As the son of one of the richest men in the world, Luke Parrish had never really bothered whether people liked him or not. In his experience, most people did. With the exception of Ms Steel, of course. And the Time Police. Now, however, he was about to discover just how much the Time Police really did dislike him.

Because his plan had always been to get out at the earliest possible opportunity – even if it meant being thrown out – he’d never gone out of his way to be pleasant. He had a sharp tongue and never hesitated to use it. For someone who’d only been with the Time Police for a few months, he’d managed to annoy almost everyone who crossed his path. Instructors, senior officers, colleagues, teammates – his proud boast was that with the exception of the big blonde in Logistics, everyone hated him. And now he came to think of it, he wasn’t that sure about the blonde – what was her name now?

Rounding a corner the next day, he found a small knot of officers – all male – grouped together in a quiet corridor. Something about the way they were standing told him they were waiting for him and at that moment he rather wished he’d gone with Matthew to the technical library. He wasn’t looking for trouble and there were a lot of them. Too many. Discretion is frequently the better part of valour. He wheeled about, intending to retrace his footsteps.

Too late. They were behind him as well and, in a moment, he was surrounded.

No one said a word. Their silence was ominous. His heart sank. This was serious. This wasn’t going to be a case of insults exchanged – all sound but no fury. It was obvious a bit of a punch-up was brewing.

A sensible man would assume a placatory manner and endeavour to get his arse out of there with all speed. Luke Parrish didn’t do sensible.

He patted his pockets artistically. ‘Hang on – I’ve got some peanuts somewhere. Do you do tricks?’

Someone – he never discovered who – said, ‘Orduroy Tann­hauser’s sister was a friend of mine.’

Shit. This wasn’t, as he had first thought, the old having a go at the new again. This was personal.

The shock left him frozen for just that moment too long. And then they all moved at once.