Thalia Kalkipsakis - Edge of Time

Young Adult novels by Thalia Kalkipsakis

Silhouette

Lifespan of Starlight

Split Infinity

Edge of Time

The future has an ancient heart.

Carlo Levi

To Elm

TABLE OF CONTENTS

E VERY CELL IN my body zaps to life as I return mid-air, ropping fast to hit the swell of black water with a hard splash. Bubbles rise as my senses shoot into panic; the river is sucking me in. Its going to swallow me whole.

My feet hit the bog of the riverbed so I push against it, flailing in slow-mo until I break the surface with a spluttering gasp.

Three more times I go under, angling closer each time towards the rivers edge. Im coughing hard as I clamber up the bank and spit out a glob of saltwater. Made it.

Sodden grit pricks my knees as I crawl into the shadow of the embankment, checking for motion sensors, cameras. People.

The air is thick, warm, even though its night. Already a slick of salt is crusting against my bare skin. Above me, the smooth curve of the West Gate Bridge ends in a tangle of cables and crumbling concrete. Its become a road to nowhere in a single time-skip. But from what? A bomb? A tsunami? Even as my mind races through the possibilities, the bridge seems to shimmer and tilt in front of me. But Im ready for the swirling shift of my senses that happens after long skips. I breathe through it, let it ease.

I need to be sharp now. Ready to face this future. Only moments ago I jumped from the bridges central pillar, escaping the police and using time skips to break the momentum of the fall. Just moments. And nearly fifty years.

It should be the early 2140s, more or less. Thats if Ive hit my goal; I need to see the date to know for sure. Jumping so far on my own has made it difficult to hit an exact return. This one brought a strange kind of resistance, like pressing two of the same magnets against each other. But I managed to wrench myself out and slip into a new reality. There should still be time before Mason and the others are due to return in 2145. Ill have months to get my head around this future world, to prepare. Ill be ready to help them escape from the fire shelter before the police close in.

Theyre all I have left. Im not losing them as well.

Lightning cracks the sky as I hug my arms around my bare chest. I track a path along the rivers edge before slinking into the shadow of a support column. My feet sink into sodden soil with each step, and I keep my eyes peeled for cameras and sensors. Until I find out whats happened since weve been gone, Im not taking any chances.

The city skyline comes into view as I clamber up a second embankment. Towering buildings are laced with strings of pulsing lights. The wonder of it makes me inhale; Ive stumbled into a flickering fairyland. The city is thriving.

The thrill soon twists and knots inside me, because those bright lights arent any sort of welcome for me. Ill never belong in that city.

I scan the area. Its just half-dead shrubs and rubble for ages, but the ground is firmer here, bringing the promise of people beyond the wasteland. That means more chance of detection equipment. And without any clothes, its going to be tough making it anywhere without drawing attention to myself.

Think, Scout. Its not just a lack of clothes that leaves me naked. Without any tech, Im running blind.

For a moment I peer past the blocks of shadow towards the streets of Yarraville, wishing that simply looking that way would answer the question in my heart. Mason was still gone in a skip when Boc and I realised that their group of time-skippers were trapped in the fire shelter, after theyd already been tagged for arrest. So Im desperate to see for sure that he made it back okay before escaping on a fifty-year skip with the others. I could open the escape hatch on the roof of the fire shelter and try to start the old compad hidden in the lining of a wall

But the police could be watching. I cant go near there without sussing out what Im dealing with first. It doesnt come easy, but for now I have to count on Boc. Bossy, smug, risk-taking Boc: Trust me, all right? I got him. I wont leave anyone behind.

Hes counting on me to get them out, so thats what I have to focus on now. I let out a breath and turn north instead, to the cave at Footscray Park.

Ive just dropped into a dry ditch beneath a freeway overpass when a voice calls out behind me.

You all right, hon? A woman.

My pulse thuds in my neck, even as I freeze. Is she a police officer? I clear my throat and slowly turn to find the woman stepping back, melting into the darkness of a column. Something about her cautiousness gives me courage. Maybe shes on the run an illegal perhaps, with no chip in her wrist. Like me.

Could I maybe borrow a blanket? I clamber up the edge of the ditch and cross my arms in a lame attempt to cover myself. My mind flicks through stories that wont give too much away. I was mugged. Ill bring it back. Thats vague enough to be safe.

Shadows shift on the ground beneath the column, the only sign shes still there. Mugged? Honey, its obvious. Youre a spacer.

Spacer? Just the sound of the word makes me stop. Ideas and hopes tumble in. Do time-skippers belong enough here to have been given a name?

What year did you come from? the woman asks. As if thats the most natural question in the world.

I ah what year is this? Im not giving away more than I have to.

All I get in response is a humph from the shadows. Most spacers end up dead, you realise that? Youre going to need some help.

My fists clench hard. So many years have vanished in a heartbeat. But I dont move, dont say a word. Mason and the others arent due back yet; she must be talking about the other time-jumpers, the ones who shared info about time-skipping on sparkpad back in 2095.

If you want to stay alive, you better come with me. Her voice is even, but not cold.

In the dim light I can just make out her shape from behind as she strides away: narrow shoulders angling out to a thick waist, a top with seams split open and grey, smudged slacks. If shes a citizen, shes not high-level. She disappears into the shadow of the next column along and calls, This way.

Its too soon to be taking a risk like this, but the risk of being caught is worse. Just the small chance Ill be offered clothes makes me follow her back into the wasteland. I keep far enough behind her to have a head start if I need to bolt and time-jump to escape.

She reaches a hut with a flat roof and walls made from mottled plastic and disappears inside. An old-fashioned hinged door sits open, as if Im meant to follow her.

But I dont. Once Im inside, Ill be trapped.

Im hanging back, watching as a low glow filters onto the swampy ground from inside the hut. Her face appears around the door, high cheekbones and deep-set eyes framed by dark, stubbly hair. She chucks something floppy that lands a couple of paces away from me a pair of slacks.

With a flush of relief I pull them on, enjoying the strength and pull of the fabric. Even though theyre worn and damp down one side, they feel good; somehow, the fabric is even cooling my skin against the warm air. The bottom half of my problem has been solved, at least.

Come on, she calls, her tone softer now. I wont bite, you know.

She disappears into the hut again.

Its just a manual door. I step towards the glow until Im barely through the frame, leaving the door open behind me. The woman has her back to me, leaning over a bag at the rear of the hut. A blanket has been pulled neatly across a mat on the floor, with a second blanket bunched into a pillow. A moulded chair rests to the side and a row of water bottles lines one wall.