thinking about the final odd word of her father’s message.
“A tempod is a strange thing, not much understood,” Dr Diamond said. “It looks like a hollow rock, by all accounts, but it is capable of storing a large quantity of time.”
“Speaking of time, what time is it?” Owen said.
“That is an interesting question,” Dr Diamond said, turning to look at him.
“No,” Owen groaned, “I meant is it morning or the middle of the night? I can’t tell down here.”
“Oh,” Dr Diamond said. “About eleven o’clock, I think.” A thought struck him and he strode to his blackboard. He swiftly wrote out a long sum with lots of fractions, looked at it, then seized the duster and wiped it out.
“No good.” He sat down, looking glum. “I can’t figure out why he left that message in particular. Not enough time. What does it mean?”
“What about…” Owen said slowly, almost afraid to be laughed at. “What if he just meant that there wasn’t enough time?”
“That is precisely what it does mean,” the doctor cried. “But not enough time for what?”
“No,” Owen said, sure now that Dr Diamond would laugh out loud. “What if it meant that there really wasn’t enough time. I mean not enough to go around. Say the world or universe, or whatever, is filled with time, but that it has run short or something, so that there just isn’t enough of it…” He ground lamely to a halt. Dr Diamond was staring at him. “It’s just a theory,” Owen said. “Probably pretty stupid.”
“A theory?” Dr Diamond said, finding his voice. “You’ve hit the nail on the head, Owen! That was exactly what the message meant. It makes sense now. That is why the clocks are all slowing down. That was why your friend’s face changed in the playground, although fortunately the change wasn’t permanent. The geese turned to dust. There isn’t enough time. And that’s why he told us about the City.”
“What is this City of Time?” Cati asked.
“It is called Hadima in the old books,” Dr Diamond said. “Years ago there was a lot of coming and going between the Workhouse and Hadima. There used to be an entrance…”
Cati noticed a strange expression on Dr Diamond’s face. His eyes fell on Owen and stayed there, as if lost in a dream.
“The City of Time, Dr Diamond,” Owen reminded him gently.
“Oh yes. Well, to cut it short, it is a trading city, you might say; a city with its roots stretching back in the past and far into the future.”
“What does it trade?”
“Time,” Dr Diamond said. “It trades time itself.”
“That’s why my father is telling us to go there,” Cati said excitedly. “To get some time. There isn’t enough time so we have to get some.”
“Is that right, Dr Diamond?” Owen said. Time, after all, wasn’t something you went out to a shop and bought.
“Yes,” Dr Diamond said slowly, “I think Cati may be right.”
“So, that’s easy then,” Owen said. “Cati’s dad is telling us to go to Hadima and get a tempod containing time, and… and…”
“…and release the time here.” Cati completed his sentence.
“But you cannot,” Dr Diamond said.
“Why?” Owen demanded.
“The entrance is sealed. The Resisters sat in Convoke – you remember the Convoke, Owen? Where we all gather together and decide things? And at this Convoke a long time ago, we decided that the entrance should be sealed permanently.”
“But why?” Cati said.
“We were afraid that the Harsh might use it to travel from the City to here. There were rumours…”
“But the Harsh got here anyway!” Owen said. “When they attacked last year!”
“I know, Owen,” the doctor said, looking troubled, “but there was another reason. Your father was travelling between here and Hadima. The Convoke thought that he was bringing trouble with him. That he was meddling in things he did not understand.”
“But now… now we need it,” Cati said. “We need to get to Hadima!”
“I’m sorry,” Dr Diamond said, “but I cannot repeal the decision of the Convoke.”
They heard a faint rumble beneath their feet. The Skyward swayed gently for a moment and then was still.
“What was that?” Cati said, alarmed.
Dr Diamond stood up and walked over to an instrument in the corner which had started to spout out rolls of paper. He examined it. “Earth tremor,” he said. “Two point three on the Richter scale. Caused by the moon, I would say.”
Cati and Owen looked at each other. Cati opened her mouth to speak, but before she could Dr Diamond said sternly, “The decision of the Convoke is final. The entrance to Hadima has been sealed with the sign of the fleur-de-lis, and will not be reopened!”
Next morning they ate breakfast at Dr Diamond’s workbench. The scientist fried bacon and sausages, and they had them with fried potato cakes and crusty bread, all washed down with mugs of tea.
“Now,” said the doctor when they had finished, “we need a plan. But first, what about your mother, Owen? Will she not wonder where you are?”
“She’ll think I’ve gone to school already. She doesn’t really notice much.”
“Don’t be too hard on her,” Dr Diamond said. “We never really know what is going on in someone’s head.”
“What shall we do first?” asked Cati.
“I think we need to wake some of the others,” the doctor said. “Do you think you can try, Owen? I know it’s dangerous, but we need more help. How about Rutgar and Pieta? They both have strong minds and should be able to reach out to you as you wake them.”
Rutgar was the head of the Workhouse guard, solid and dependable. Pieta was the subtle and dangerous warrior who had followed Owen to the north when he had been taken by Johnston’s henchmen. Owen still remembered the magno whip she wielded with deadly force.
Owen took a deep breath. He remembered what had happened when he had woken Dr Diamond and he wasn’t eager to experience it again. But he found himself saying, “Yes, of course I will.”
“Start with Rutgar,” Dr Diamond said.
“Maybe I should wake Wesley,” Owen said. “The Raggies are younger. They might be easier to wake.”
Cati’s heart lifted at the thought of seeing Wesley and the Raggies again. The Raggies were Resisters too, but slept in their own Starry in warehouses near the harbour. They were children who had been abandoned in time by the captain of a ship who had been paid to look after them. The older children, like Wesley, took care of the younger ones. They dressed in rags and never wore shoes, but they were proud and resourceful, and were experts on anything to do with the sea.
Dr Diamond frowned. “That is the problem,” he said. “They are young. Rutgar is an experienced fighter.”
“It has to be Wesley,” Owen said stubbornly, “or I won’t do it.” Cati looked at him. It wasn’t like Owen to behave so childishly.
“All right,” Dr Diamond said quietly. “If you fear to risk waking Rutgar, then Wesley it is.”
There was another rumble beneath their feet and the Starry swayed again. The doctor leaped up and examined the machine in the corner. “Two point four on the Richter scale!” he exclaimed. “We must hurry! Go and wake Wesley if you can. I must