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Scottish Government Bunker, Edinburgh, 2061
Next to Rory at the kitchen table, Siobhan ate her dinner at last. Murray washed the dirty dishes and cooking utensils while Xian wiped them dry, and Murray’s young voice drifted over as he directed the older man to the cupboards in which the utensils belonged.
Siobhan’s cheeks glowed fresh, and she’d tucked her hair in its usual roll at the back of her head, exposing the soft line of her neck. Rory suppressed a groan. How he’d love to take his time loosening that hair. But they had to get out of here, and she was coming with them.
“We’ll go soon,” he whispered into her ear. The perfume that was unmistakably her, filled his nostrils—filled his mind. “We’ll get some sleep first, aye?”
Siobhan’s chewing stopped, then she blinked.
“Rory, there’s not much privacy here,” she whispered back.
He raised his eyebrows. Murray’s directions to Xian filled the kitchen space.
“There’s something I need to do,” her whispering continued.
“Aye, lass, there’s something we need to do.” He curled a brow.
Siobhan squeezed her mouth, suppressing a smile.
“What?” he asked.
“We’ve already done that today...several times.” A grin burst through.
“What!” Rory sat straighter. “When—?”
Siobhan’s finger to his mouth stopped him short. Murray and Xian paused in their post meal task. The clatter of dishes and clanking of cooking pots soon resumed.
She leaned in closer to Rory, her deep-blue eyes like midnight in the dim LED.
“There are some things I must research in our archives before we leave. It’s vital information.”
Rory held back all the questions he could ask her about the future. None would pass his lips while they were in this place.
The click of heels on the concrete floor rang along the corridor and Siobhan spun in her chair.
“Hi, Louise.” Siobhan placed her unfinished plate of chicken casserole on the table.
“I just wanted you to know the PM’s on her way.” Louise looked straight at Siobhan, avoiding Rory’s stare, her mouth skewed to the side.
Bethany marched in their direction with two armed soldiers either side of her. Dark hair, dark suit, and a dark expression. Louise sidled to stand beside Siobhan at the kitchen table. Siobhan stood and Rory followed her lead.
“Siobhan,” Bethany spoke to Siobhan, passing her vision over Rory. “I hope your guests will be comfortable. Louise has arranged rooms nearby for their use.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister. I was hoping to show my husband around. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, but only in the general access areas,” Bethany clipped her reply and straightened her shoulders.
“Certainly.” Siobhan sounded defensive. “I mainly wanted to show him our extensive archives.”
“Oh, very good.” Bethany’s straight back relaxed its rigid posture.
“Must an armed guard escort us?” Siobhan slipped her hand into Rory’s, flicking her gaze to Henderson for a second. “We’re entirely safe, I assure you.”
Bethany’s stare lingered on their clasped hands.
“You know I am here in friendship,” Rory said. “I just want to be with my wife, Prime Minister. I’m nae going to start a revolution. In fact, I want the opposite. I, and my people, are for Scotland, not against her.”
Bethany flicked her head and brushed away an imaginary hair from her perfectly neat hairdo. “Well, maybe you and I can have some discussion while you are here, Mr Campbell?”
“I’d like that, Prime Minister. Very much.” Rory forced a smile, endeavouring to make the diplomatic expression touch his eyes.
Bethany turned to leave.
“Henderson can go then?” Siobhan said to Bethany’s back.
The Prime Minister of Scotland nodded to Henderson standing at attention by the kitchen bench, watching the post meal tidy-up. He narrowed his gaze at Xian and then strode out behind Bethany and the others. Louise’s mouth drew in at the corner as she bobbed her head to Siobhan and followed the PM and her guard.
“Man, she needs to get laid or something,” Xian said.
“I think the something’s more likely,” Rory said under his breath.
“Hmm.” Siobhan’s brow crinkled in the middle. “She’s being a bit heavy-handed.”
“A bit?”
“Where are the children?” Xian said, as though the thought had just occurred to him. “I haven’t seen any.” He fiddled with the tea towel.
“With their parents,” Siobhan scraped the remains of her unfinished meal into the bin then slipped the plate into the sink. “This is the singles’ quarters.”
“Where do they get to run around?” Xian looked past the kitchen.
“In their play area,” Siobhan answered.
“There aren’t many kids.” Murray stopped wiping the benches with a wet cloth and scowled at Siobhan’s dirty plate in the sink. “At least, I’ve never seen more than a small group of children at a time. It’s like they don’t believe in them.”
“Let’s go,” Siobhan clasped Rory’s hand and tugged him out of the kitchen.
“Can I come?” Murray asked from the sink.
“Of course,” Siobhan spoke over her shoulder.
“Where’re we going?” Xian followed them along the corridor.
“You’ll love this place,” Murray stepped in behind them. “Full o’ stuff from every decade going right back to the 1800s, in an orderly fashion. And things, not so organised, from every time else. Plus, the stuff they rescued from libraries and museums. There’s even a mummy.”
Siobhan marched them to a main corridor and led them to two silver shiny doors where a guard stood. Siobhan pushed a button and smiled at Rory as the double doors slid apart to reveal a small room. Rory took a step back.
“You’ve never seen a lift before?” Siobhan’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and amusement.
Rory shook his head.
“Wow,” Xian said behind him.
“Come in.” She pulled Rory into the box-like place, and Xian and Murray followed.
“What happens now?” he asked.
The doors closed with a clunk then Siobhan pressed one of the many buttons on the wall beside the door.
The floor moved. No, the whole box moved. Then Rory’s feet and head gave him the sensation of falling. He grabbed the rail.
“It’s okay, Rory, we’re going down.” Siobhan stepped close to him, put her arms around his waist, and pressed her body against his.
“You’ve never been in a lift?” Xian asked. “I have, as a very young child. It’s fun, yeah?”
“No.” Rory’s stomach moved up inside him.
“We’re here,” Murray said. “Almost at the bottom of the Bunker.” His eyes were wide, and he bounced when the lift came to a halt. “They’ve got very early model computers too.”
“We’re going this way.” Siobhan released her hold on Rory as the doors slid open and he hurried out. Siobhan walked out of the lift, crooking a finger at Murray. “I need your research skills.”
“What are we—?” Murray began.
A finger over Siobhan’s lips silenced everyone.
They followed her down a short passage. To the left was an entry and a sign stating Archives sat above the double doorway. Rory glanced in. Sections headed 1900s, 1910s and so on, flowed down the long narrow corridor. Siobhan led them to their right, to an atrium that opened to an enormous area with high ceilings. Bookshelves lined the walls, and ladders reached to the very top of them. More rows of tall, double-sided bookshelves filled the rest of this room except for where glass cases held objects.
“See? I told ya.” Murray pointed to a large case as they marched past. “A mummy.”
“Come on, Murray,” Siobhan called and then whispered, “we’re going to the Geological History area.”
After passing through a few rooms identical to the first one, Siobhan turned down a brief corridor to an area with computers on desks, bookshelves, rock samples in glass-topped display cabinets, and a large table with a stack of paper in the centre.
“Rocks?” Xian asked. “We’re looking at dirt?”
Siobhan strode to the table where a thick wad of smooth, shiny paper sat next to some pencils, and sat down to write. Murray sat on a chair by a computer and turned it on.
“What are we looking for, Siobhan?” Murray twisted in his chair to face her.
Siobhan glared at him and waved the pencil in her hand, then pointed for them to read what she’d written, again placing a finger against her mouth.
Rory leaned over her shoulder and read.
Sorry, guys, especially Murray, but we can’t use the computer. They may check the search history and wonder what we’re up to. So, it’s the good old-fashioned way. Please look for anything on large volcanic eruptions that have affected the weather and climate adversely.
Murray stood up from the computer chair and moaned, then strolled over to the table and read—then groaned. Xian frowned, biting his lower lip, then walked to the nearest bookshelf and started looking at the titles on the spines of the books.
Something tugged at Rory’s mind. A flash of a dimmed sky flitted through his thoughts. He took the pencil from Siobhan.
What happens in the future? A volcanic eruption? Is that why you came back a mess?
Siobhan picked up another pencil from the holder on the table and wrote:
Yes and no. Things happen because of a volcanic explosion, but I won’t discuss it here. When we get home, we’ll talk. But I need to gather all the information I can while we have access to this library.
Siobhan had written when we get home. Warmth swelled within Rory and the corner of his mouth tightened. Man, he wanted her home, but standing here staring at those beautiful eyes wouldn’t get them there. He tossed the pencil on the table and wandered to the bookshelves. He ran fingers down the smooth spines of the volumes on a few rows until he came to the same place where Xian now stood reading a book. Xian pointed his chin at the shelf at waist-height. Rory leaned down and read the titles.
Aye, the volcano shelf.