Stealing Time by Rebecca Bowyer (bearly read books .TXT) 📗

goes on therooster’s head?” Daniel planted his hand against the centre of hisskull and waggled his fingers in the air, demonstrating. “This oneis a girl chicken.”

“Well, her name is still Rooster.” Kirpicked up the gender-fluid poultry and wrapped his arms around itdefensively. He sat on his bed and watched his new moving friend,still undecided about whether he was happy about his arrival. Whenhe had imagined one of the frozen children coming to life, they hadalways been far more agreeable than the one that stood in front ofhim. The frozen children just laughed when he told his joke aboutthe knock knocks and the interrupting ghost. And they always noddedwhen he told them things and they stood exactly where he wantedthem to stand when they played statues. Daniel was standing alittle bit too close for Kir’s liking, hands in pockets and a sadlook on his face. Daniel was also very tall.

“Your mum says we used to play together whenI was little,” said Daniel.

Kir continued to stare. The tour of hisbedroom was now complete, and he didn’t quite know what to say toDaniel that wouldn’t be wrong again. He wasn’t sure if he liked himyet, but he didn’t want to make him leave before he’d decided.

“Do you remember me?” asked Daniel. “Fromwhen I was little?” It was becoming clear to him that, althoughthis might be the same boy he’d played Matchbox cars with at agefour, they were no longer equal. Kir was still just a little boy.Daniel realised that he was perhaps intimidating the small boy withhis height, and sat down, cross-legged on the carpet, in a swiftdrop-collapse manoeuvre. Kir started to swing his legs, low atfirst but then higher and then just a little bit higher. He reachedout his big toe. It nearly touched Daniel’s nose. He giggled.

“Hey!” said Daniel, catching the boy’s footin his hand gently.

“Are you staying?”

“For a while, yes, I guess. Not too long.”Daniel thought for a moment. “I have to get back to school. I’vegot a basketball quarter-final next week.”

“Oh,” said Kir. “So not long.”

Daniel shook his head. “I don’t thinkso.”

Kir sat up straight, excited to have thoughtof something else to talk about.

“What sickness do you have? I havecancer.”

Daniel laughed. “Oh, I’m not sick.”

Kir frowned. “Then why are you here? My Mumbrought me here ‘cause I’m sick and she has to find a cure before Ican come out again. Why did your mum bring you here?”

Daniel leaned forward and flicked Rooster’sorange beard. Kir snatched the toy away, out of his reach.

“I guess you could say I’m not sick, butI’ll die real soon if Varya can’t find a cure to fix me.”

Kir eyed him suspiciously, then raised asingle eyebrow. “And you think ‘Rooster’ is a weird name for achicken? That makes more sense than what you just said.”

“Hey, Dan.” Zoe appeared at the doorway,smiling hopefully at the two of them. “Making friends?”

“We were already friends,” Kir announced.“When Daniel was little.” He nodded sagely at Daniel, who lookedback at him in mild surprise.

“Well, that’s wonderful. You look after Danfor me, then, won’t you, Kir? I have to go away for a while, butI’ll be back to visit again soon.”

Daniel winced at his mother’s attempt atcasualness

“Don’t worry, she’ll come back again. Mumsalways come back.” Kir reached out to pat the older boy awkwardlyon the shoulder, almost toppling himself off the bed.

“That’s right, Kir. Mums always come back,”Zoe agreed quietly. To Daniel, she said, “Hug?”

He paused, sneaking a look at Kir to seewhat he thought of hugs. Kir sat and watched Zoe with excitementapproaching deification. Daniel got up slowly and presented himselffor a reluctant hug. It felt better than he’d expected. When shelet go it was too soon. He swallowed what threatened to become awhimper.

“I know it’s been confusing and scary butyou’re going to be okay.” Daniel wasn’t sure if she was talking tohim or herself. Maybe both. She nodded. He nodded back. “Okay. I’llsee you soon.”

Chapter thirty

Varya

Varya tried her best to avoid shuddering as shefollowed Sebastian down the corridor at Rest Time Corps. Her eyesfocused on the hairs on her ex-husband’s neck, just above hisjacket collar. He needed a haircut. The black hairs were pepperedwith grey now, where they curled in short, wispy clumps below theintended hairline. In her peripheral vision she could see signsmarked ‘Lab 1’ and ‘Lab 3’ to her left.

Varya had never gone back to work after Kirwas born. She relied on the time credit she’d received for birthinghim, and the credits she’d earned in overtime before he was born,to extend her life span closer to the sixty-five year maximum.She’d planned to only take a couple of years off, then go back andwork longer hours again. It would only mean a month or two ofmissed time credits, if any. At the time she’d been happy to tradeearning thirty extra days in the future to spend a whole year oftime with her baby son. But then two years turned into three years,which soon crept into four. And then Kir got sick, so there was noquestion of returning.

She didn’t miss these cold, sterile halls.Her own medical research facility had artwork on the walls toremind staff who they were working for, really. Collages of sickkids and their families, both before and after diagnosis. And then,the best collage of them all—the kids they’d saved. Healthy kidsplaying catch, drawing pictures, blowing out candles on theirbirthday cakes.

Rest Time Corps was a series of grey paintedwalls adorned with warning signs about potential hazards orsecurity levels.

Varya was concentrating so fiercely onSebastian’s neck that she nearly stepped on his heels as he came toa stop in front of a single elevator. He pushed the button and theywaited.

“What are you hoping to find down there?” Heglanced sideways at her.

“Research papers, maybe even partial plans,”she answered vaguely.

“Weren’t they all destroyed, though?”

She shrugged. “People always keep randomnotes. They might help.”

“We could use some help,” he muttered.

She looked at him sharply as they steppedinto the elevator. “Another child?”

He shook his head. “No, not…”

Yet. That was what he’d meant to say, Varyawas sure. He’d seemed frustrated and confused