Primeval Fic: Reboot - Part 1 (Ex-Art Fic)
Title: Reboot - Part 1
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~3610 out of a total of ~14555.
Characters: Nick Cutter, Stephen Hart, James Lester plus ARC team.
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace.
A/N 1: Based on eriah211's art fic prompt here. - I didn’t finish it in time due to a plot hole, which I hope I’ve now solved. Hope you enjoy it.
AN 2: Thanks go to fififolle for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Reading and signing off on reports didn’t stop just because the world was ending and I had been making steady progress with the contents of my in-tray. Had been but not now, for the unnatural quietness of the ARC had worn on my concentration until I was spending more time looking at the door than I did reading the latest Special Forces requisition. I found my thoughts turning to the last time I’d been all alone in the ARC and… I rose abruptly and left my office, my steps taking me around the ARC, accompanied only by the humming of equipment. I did consider turning the lights off for a moment but I left them on, the bill might be extortionate but I had no wish to be left in darkness. I continued to prowl around the ARC until I arrived at a rest-room and I paused when my stomach rumbled.
On investigation I discovered the contents of the rest-room were abysmally lacking - the fruit was wrinkled and soft, the cheese mouldy and the bread looked as if it might apply to the UN for membership at any moment. A rummage in the cupboards produced an unopened box of sugary cereal and I prayed the milk was still fresh when I located a pilfered jar of my coffee hidden in the back. At least something was going in my favour when I opened the milk bottle and sniffed it.
Sitting down on a comfortable chair, waiting for my coffee to cool and munching on tooth-rotting cereal gave me too much time to think. I spotted the television and switched it on, although I kept it on mute so I could listen out for danger, even if I was jumping at the slightest sound. I glared at the fridge before I turned my attention back to the television.
Static filled the screen and my finger hovered over the off button before I pressed the channel search feature instead. It was only when the static flickered that I realised it had been on a pre-set channel, just one which had ceased to broadcast. I tried again, channel after channel of static, almost driven to find a station still broadcasting. I wondered why I persisted, was I hoping someone would appear, announcing that the disaster was over? I snorted, knowing it was far more likely that I did it in some twisted attempt at penance for my failure. What I did know was that an increasing number of channels showed only static as they had gone off air one-by-one and I almost cried out when I finally found one still broadcasting.
My euphoria was short lived, for the muted image was typical of so many - far too many - that I’d watched in the past week or so. The street it showed was deserted, strewn with litter and personal belongings left behind in the panic. A car had been abandoned beneath a flickering street light, the passenger door gaping open and I could only hope the occupants had reached safety when they’d fled. Except I knew what they’d been running from, I had experienced that terror first hand. My thoughts returned to that moment which had haunted my nights before I winced and realised my hand was now resting on the still livid and tender scars concealed beneath my suit.
I took a calming breath and forced that memory away, turning my attention back to the television, when I tensed at a faint scuffle coming from the corridor. I held my breath as I concentrated on listening, almost relaxing when I hear it again. The sound of someone - or something - moving quietly towards me. I drew the pistol I had carried ever since bloody Leek had tried to kill me within these very walls and moved away from the door, cursing myself for being in a room with only one exit. I could do nothing except wait, half-expecting to see my nightmare come alive before my eyes. My finger began to tighten on the trigger before I muttered, “Verify targets,” to myself. I waited, barely breathing, for whoever - whatever it was to come into view.
I felt almost giddy with relief when Cutter strode into the room, Hart on his heels. Both stopped sharply when they realised I was pointing the business end of a pistol at them and I almost laughed at the looks on their faces. I gave myself a mental shake, fearing any laugh I uttered would border on the hysterical, and instead forced myself to lower my arm and loosen my white-knuckled grip on the pistol. I took the scant seconds it took me to re-holster it to put my facade firmly back in place.
It was only when I felt completely in control that I turned my attention back to them. My gaze took them in head-to-foot and I allowed my lip to curl at their dishevelled and grimy state. Of course they hadn’t bothered clearing up before reporting in, but rather than start another pointless argument with Cutter, I instead said, “I had hoped you’d make it back.” After all, that had been one of the reasons I had remained at the ARC, it really wouldn’t have been form if they’d returned with the solution to our problem only to find the ARC deserted. “Well? Did you find her?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow in polite enquiry, even though I doubted they had. Oh, I admit it was possible they’d had a moment of common sense and locked her up before coming to find me, but it was extremely unlikely.
Cutter opened his mouth before shaking his head, obviously thinking better of whatever it was he had been going to say. Instead he glanced at Hart before answering my question. “Helen’s long gone.”
“If she was ever there,” Hart added, his suspicious gaze darting around the rest-room.
I nodded, it had always been a long shot but Helen might have held the answer to our current predicament, especially as she’d caused it. Of course, convincing her to help might have been difficult but… well, that wouldn’t have been my problem. No, the government had experts for that - after all, I had been one, once and in another life. I shook my head, now was not the time to dwell on dark deeds, and frowned at Cutter and Hart. If they hadn’t found a trace of Helen, what the hell had kept them so long? I’d almost given up hope they’d make it back before I had to leave for my meeting. “You took your time.”
“It’s a fucking nightmare out there,” Hart snapped back, his gaze burning on me for a moment before he returned to scanning the area for any danger.
“I have read the reports, gentlemen,” I informed them, ignoring the looks on both their faces as I turned back to the image on the screen. Even if I hadn’t read them, the news still being broadcast told the same story. Mostly, for there were still a few channels claiming it was all propaganda and people believed. Who wouldn’t? Even if not one of them thought to question why anyone would make up such an outlandish hoax. “We’ve lost London,” I told them before turning back to face them. “They’re spreading out across the country. The French had already collapsed their entrance to the Channel Tunnel and mined the rubble.” As if that would stop what was coming.
“Where is everyone?”
Hart burst out with the question I had been waiting for one of them to ask. I bit back a sigh, even after everything that had happened, the distrust was clearly audible in his voice, but I saw little point in remarking upon it, not considering the situation. “I’ve sent everyone I could away,” I replied, hearing the loss and bitterness in my voice. How could I not? I knew I hadn’t sent anyone away to safety… Not unless Lorraine managed to liaise with my European contacts and convince them that they only had one choice if anyone wanted to survive this bloody nightmare.
“Lester?”
Cutter’s voice broke through my thoughts, his voice gentle, full of understanding and I shook my head, I couldn’t handle compassion, not now. “No, Cutter,” I said, my voice almost normal. “I should have acted faster, I should have...” The number of people I had managed to send with Lorraine had been pitiful, those I had failed numbered far higher. “I should have done more.”
“You did the best you could, man,” Cutter tried again and I wondered for a moment when he’d become so observant of people before I remembered that my facade had slipped. “The bloody minister wouldn’t listen to you.”
I snorted at that, for once not caring about professionalism. Of course the minister hadn’t, the man was an imbecile, but that didn’t absolve me of my responsibility. I barely suppressed my wince when my chest twinged as I took a deep breath, knowing there was little point dwelling on my failure when I still had a job to do.
“Where is he anyway?” Hart asked, his opinion of my current political master clear. “Safe and sound and leaving us to solve his problem for him before he swoops in to claim the credit?”
“The government had moved to France,” I said, my opinion of them equally clear in my voice. “From where they will continue to run the country.”
“Saving their own skins,” Hart muttered in disgust.
“They’re politicians.” I knew the minister believed he was safe in France, that the protocols in place would prevent any incursion, but I’d spent my entire career planning for the worst. The Channel Tunnel was a weak point, even caved in and mined, but it wasn’t the only one, every boat carrying refugees from these blighted shores might harbour a Predator. Oh, I’m sure they’d be searched, but all it would take would be a few Predators making landfall and… As I had no wish to contemplate what would happen then I turned my attention to Cutter. “I do hope you have another plan, Professor, because I’m running out of arguments against the current one.”
“Plan?” Hart asked, turning to face me as he demanded, “What plan?”
“One that I don’t agree with, Dr Hart,” I replied, wondering just what would convince him that I was not the enemy? Still, I saw little reason to keep it from them, not now. “The United Nation’s Security Council have decided a tactical nuclear strike on London is the best response to this global threat.”
“What?” Hart scoffed. “We destroy the world to save it?”
I fully agreed with Hart’s sentiments, it was why I’d argued against the plan. I could, however, understand why the Security Council had made that decision. “They’re desperate.”
“They’re idiots,” Hart snapped back.
I nodded before I turned my attention back to the suspiciously quiet Cutter. “Have we got a plan, Cutter?” I had hoped he hadn’t put all his hopes in one Helen bloody Cutter, but that was obviously asking for too much. “For once, just once, couldn’t someone else have a plan B?”
“Yes.”
“I...” I stopped, blinking at Cutter before recovering my poise. “One that I can present to the Security Council?” I asked, sighing when my question was met with silence. “I’ll take that as a no, shall I?”
“We go back.” Cutter spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly that I knew the mule-headed man had already made his mind up, it was just a pity he hadn’t thought to discuss his idea with me first.
“Back where?” I asked, before my thoughts turned to the conversation I’d had with Ms Lewis after the ‘Bunker Incident’. Cutter couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he did, could he?
“We go back and change the past.” Cutter jabbed a finger at the image on the television. “We stop this from ever happening.”
Apparently he did. Still, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what he was saying. “We… do what? I didn’t think you wanted to risk the past?”
“We’re a bit bloody past that now, Lester. We’ve lost!” Cutter almost shouted in my face before quietening. “I’ve seen the projections. Total extinction within the year if they get out of the UK.”
I’d seen the same data and it was even worse than Cutter thought, extinction was swiftly coming for humanity, whether by nuclear fallout or the claws of a Predator. As much as it pained me to admit it, Cutter’s plan might be the only sane solution.
“How do you even know if we can change the past?” Hart asked. It was clear from his shocked expression that this was the first he’d heard of Cutter’s plan. All rather typical of the man, in my opinion.
“Helen,” I said slowly, earning myself a shocked look from Cutter as well as a confused one from Hart.
“Helen? How did you...” Cutter almost stumbled over his words.
“Ms Lewis was there when you meet your delightful wife in the bunker.” At Hart’s frown, I added, “When she told Ms Lewis she used to be someone called ‘Claudia Brown’.” I tilted my head slightly as I considered Cutter before deciding to offer an olive branch to him. “I might have judged your sanity a little too hastily, Professor.”
“Aye,” Cutter said before giving a sharp nod. “I’d have doubted someone coming to me with that story too, man.”
So good of the professor to finally concede to that. He was bloody lucky I had needed him too much to have him sectioned. “Excellent.” I clapped my hands together to assure I had their full attention. “Now we’re all one happy family again, would you care to explain your plan, Cutter?”
Cutter hesitated for a long moment, I assumed in surprise that I was even considering his plan, but he finally appeared to gather his thoughts. “The Forest of Dean is the key point to events, along with the anomaly there to the Permian. Especially as it moved through time - the first time we went though, we found a camp.”
“I do remember the briefing,” I said, injecting boredom into my tone in the hope, vain I expected, of Cutter getting to the point. It merely added to my belief that Cutter loved the sound of his own voice, no doubt the reason he’d become a lecturer in the first place, for all that he appeared not to like actually teaching his students.
“And,” Cutter spoke somewhat louder, probably not appreciating my interruption. “The second time we went through we made that camp. That end of the anomaly isn’t fixed in time and I believe we can use it to alter events.”
I nodded, recalling that report too. I frowned as something occurred to me.
“Lester?” Hart asked, ever-preceptive, as long as it wasn’t anything related to the Cutters.
“If you found the camp on your first visit,” I said slowly, trying to put my worry into words. “But only made it on your second, doesn’t that mean it was...” I trailed off, the only word I could think of distasteful to me.
“Predestined?” Cutter helpfully supplied the word I’d been avoiding.
“Precisely,” I agreed. “And wouldn’t that imply that we can’t change the past?”
“Except time did change when Claudia became Jenny,” Cutter pointed out and I felt able to breathe. “I believe,” he continued, “that one or more of the baby Predators survived, at least for a while. Something they did caused events to play out differently in this reality than in the one I came from.”
“It still seems rather far-fetched that an event millions of years in the past changed just one thing,” I said. Trying to wrap my mind around time travel always threatened to give me a migraine.
“There were other changes.” Cutter took on a stance I recognised from his lectures. “Apart from Claudia becoming Jenny, and Leek,” he paused when I swore under my breath. “Leek becoming your assistant. In my world, England won the 1966 World Cup. Mount Waugh is known as Mount Everest. The first man on the moon was Neil Armstrong, an American. I could go on.”
“Please don’t,” I said almost at the same moment Hart almost demanded, “And you want to change them back?”
“I believe that if we can stop the baby Predators escaping then time will reset to what it should have been.”
“Assuming that ‘your world’ was the ‘correct’ reality,” I said, making sure the sarcasm was clear in my voice.
“I still don’t see how that would help.” A mixture of confusion and distrust was evident in Hart’s tone.
I could see where Cutter was going with his thoughts but, well, I would be a poor Director of the ARC if I didn’t consider all sides of a problem. “Just because Leek,” and I knew my voice betrayed my intense dislike for the bloody man, “won't be in a position to aid Helen in her madness doesn’t mean she won’t recruit some other useful idiot to help her.” I resisted the urge to glance towards Hart, even if he had been struck by a moment of common sense and informed Cutter of Helen’s visits.
Cutter deflated somewhat at my words. “What do you suggest we do then? Wait for your bloody political masters to nuke us?”
“No,” I said, pausing as I considered the two men in front of me. If anyone had told me even a month ago that the fate of the world would be in their hands… “I suggest we attempt your plan. At least the going back in the past part. Whether it is Leek or someone else, you will know Helen’s plan.” I paused to gauge their… Cutter’s reaction, knowing my next words would not be received well by him. “Of course, if it is Leek helping her, we know exactly where his bunker is and what his plan is. It would be easier if we kept the changes, Cutter… Nick.”
“What?” Cutter exploded exactly as I had expected him to.
“He’s right,” Hart said, causing me to sigh. Of course he’d agree with Cutter. Hart’s next words had both Cutter and myself staring at him in disbelief. “I mean Lester’s right.” He gave a little self-deprecating smile as he met my shocked gaze before turning to Cutter, his voice full of pleading, I believe for Cutter to understand him, maybe even to forgive him. “As Lester’s said, we know where Leek’s bunker is, if we act at the right moment, we could stop the Predators from ever escaping. We could save everyone, Nick!”
“No.” Cutter, the stubborn fool, shook his head. “No, we can’t.”
“Can’t what?” I demanded. “Save everyone? Is this Claudia Brown worth the lives of every man, woman and child that’s died since that day?”
“No, and she’d be the first to say it,” Cutter admitted. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“Then please enlighten us, Professor.” Bloody hell, the man could never give a straight answer.
“We can’t stop the Predators escaping.”
“What!” I thought that was what his entire mad plan was about.
Cutter rubbed his face, suddenly looking haggard. “I read the reports from the bunker.”
“That must have been a first,” I couldn’t resist muttering, earning myself a brief wry grin from Hart.
“As I was saying,” Cutter spoke louder as he gave me a look I assumed was meant to be intimidating. “I read the reports, Abby’s in particular. She mentioned the creatures were trained to respond to a feeding siren.”
“I fail to see the problem, we can obviously use this siren to attract the creatures.”
“Maybe. When Helen showed me around, Leek didn’t have the Predators caged. He trusted his neural controllers to keep them obedient.”
“Much good it did him,” I muttered somewhat gleefully, earning myself looks from both men. “Your point is?” I asked when Cutter seemed somewhat tongue-tied.
“I have no idea if the Predators even associate that room with food.”
“And no reason to enter it?” I half-asked, half-stated. Damn, so much for that plan.
Cutter nodded. “But that’s not the main problem.”
“Good grief, Cutter,” I snapped. “You couldn’t have led with that?”
“Because I don’t see a way around it,” Cutter said slowly. “When I downloaded Connor’s virus onto Leek’s mainframe, it short-circuited the entire system. Including the controls for the siren.”
“Ah,” I said, understanding what Cutter meant, for Temple’s virus was also the only reason my team had managed to escape with their lives.
“There might be a way,” Hart said quietly, almost to himself.
“How?” I asked, wondering what I’d missed.
“Someone could set the siren off manually,” Hart replied.
“Maybe,” I allowed. “But, apart from the logistics of doing so, how does that help with the Predators?”
Hart looked briefly at Cutter. “Someone could also attract their attention and lead them to the cage room.”
“I’ve been chased by a single Predator, Hart,” I pointed out, meeting Hart’s eyes and cursing when I saw his determination. Just what I bloody needed. “I barely survived and then only with the help of a mammoth.”
“Look.” Hart turned his full attention on me, even if I had no idea why, it wasn’t as if convincing me would convince Cutter, the man never followed my orders if he had a better idea. “It makes sense. The only way to stop them escaping is to trap them in that cage room and this is the only way I can see we can do it.”
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~3610 out of a total of ~14555.
Characters: Nick Cutter, Stephen Hart, James Lester plus ARC team.
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace.
A/N 1: Based on eriah211's art fic prompt here. - I didn’t finish it in time due to a plot hole, which I hope I’ve now solved. Hope you enjoy it.
AN 2: Thanks go to fififolle for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Reading and signing off on reports didn’t stop just because the world was ending and I had been making steady progress with the contents of my in-tray. Had been but not now, for the unnatural quietness of the ARC had worn on my concentration until I was spending more time looking at the door than I did reading the latest Special Forces requisition. I found my thoughts turning to the last time I’d been all alone in the ARC and… I rose abruptly and left my office, my steps taking me around the ARC, accompanied only by the humming of equipment. I did consider turning the lights off for a moment but I left them on, the bill might be extortionate but I had no wish to be left in darkness. I continued to prowl around the ARC until I arrived at a rest-room and I paused when my stomach rumbled.
On investigation I discovered the contents of the rest-room were abysmally lacking - the fruit was wrinkled and soft, the cheese mouldy and the bread looked as if it might apply to the UN for membership at any moment. A rummage in the cupboards produced an unopened box of sugary cereal and I prayed the milk was still fresh when I located a pilfered jar of my coffee hidden in the back. At least something was going in my favour when I opened the milk bottle and sniffed it.
Sitting down on a comfortable chair, waiting for my coffee to cool and munching on tooth-rotting cereal gave me too much time to think. I spotted the television and switched it on, although I kept it on mute so I could listen out for danger, even if I was jumping at the slightest sound. I glared at the fridge before I turned my attention back to the television.
Static filled the screen and my finger hovered over the off button before I pressed the channel search feature instead. It was only when the static flickered that I realised it had been on a pre-set channel, just one which had ceased to broadcast. I tried again, channel after channel of static, almost driven to find a station still broadcasting. I wondered why I persisted, was I hoping someone would appear, announcing that the disaster was over? I snorted, knowing it was far more likely that I did it in some twisted attempt at penance for my failure. What I did know was that an increasing number of channels showed only static as they had gone off air one-by-one and I almost cried out when I finally found one still broadcasting.
My euphoria was short lived, for the muted image was typical of so many - far too many - that I’d watched in the past week or so. The street it showed was deserted, strewn with litter and personal belongings left behind in the panic. A car had been abandoned beneath a flickering street light, the passenger door gaping open and I could only hope the occupants had reached safety when they’d fled. Except I knew what they’d been running from, I had experienced that terror first hand. My thoughts returned to that moment which had haunted my nights before I winced and realised my hand was now resting on the still livid and tender scars concealed beneath my suit.
I took a calming breath and forced that memory away, turning my attention back to the television, when I tensed at a faint scuffle coming from the corridor. I held my breath as I concentrated on listening, almost relaxing when I hear it again. The sound of someone - or something - moving quietly towards me. I drew the pistol I had carried ever since bloody Leek had tried to kill me within these very walls and moved away from the door, cursing myself for being in a room with only one exit. I could do nothing except wait, half-expecting to see my nightmare come alive before my eyes. My finger began to tighten on the trigger before I muttered, “Verify targets,” to myself. I waited, barely breathing, for whoever - whatever it was to come into view.
I felt almost giddy with relief when Cutter strode into the room, Hart on his heels. Both stopped sharply when they realised I was pointing the business end of a pistol at them and I almost laughed at the looks on their faces. I gave myself a mental shake, fearing any laugh I uttered would border on the hysterical, and instead forced myself to lower my arm and loosen my white-knuckled grip on the pistol. I took the scant seconds it took me to re-holster it to put my facade firmly back in place.
It was only when I felt completely in control that I turned my attention back to them. My gaze took them in head-to-foot and I allowed my lip to curl at their dishevelled and grimy state. Of course they hadn’t bothered clearing up before reporting in, but rather than start another pointless argument with Cutter, I instead said, “I had hoped you’d make it back.” After all, that had been one of the reasons I had remained at the ARC, it really wouldn’t have been form if they’d returned with the solution to our problem only to find the ARC deserted. “Well? Did you find her?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow in polite enquiry, even though I doubted they had. Oh, I admit it was possible they’d had a moment of common sense and locked her up before coming to find me, but it was extremely unlikely.
Cutter opened his mouth before shaking his head, obviously thinking better of whatever it was he had been going to say. Instead he glanced at Hart before answering my question. “Helen’s long gone.”
“If she was ever there,” Hart added, his suspicious gaze darting around the rest-room.
I nodded, it had always been a long shot but Helen might have held the answer to our current predicament, especially as she’d caused it. Of course, convincing her to help might have been difficult but… well, that wouldn’t have been my problem. No, the government had experts for that - after all, I had been one, once and in another life. I shook my head, now was not the time to dwell on dark deeds, and frowned at Cutter and Hart. If they hadn’t found a trace of Helen, what the hell had kept them so long? I’d almost given up hope they’d make it back before I had to leave for my meeting. “You took your time.”
“It’s a fucking nightmare out there,” Hart snapped back, his gaze burning on me for a moment before he returned to scanning the area for any danger.
“I have read the reports, gentlemen,” I informed them, ignoring the looks on both their faces as I turned back to the image on the screen. Even if I hadn’t read them, the news still being broadcast told the same story. Mostly, for there were still a few channels claiming it was all propaganda and people believed. Who wouldn’t? Even if not one of them thought to question why anyone would make up such an outlandish hoax. “We’ve lost London,” I told them before turning back to face them. “They’re spreading out across the country. The French had already collapsed their entrance to the Channel Tunnel and mined the rubble.” As if that would stop what was coming.
“Where is everyone?”
Hart burst out with the question I had been waiting for one of them to ask. I bit back a sigh, even after everything that had happened, the distrust was clearly audible in his voice, but I saw little point in remarking upon it, not considering the situation. “I’ve sent everyone I could away,” I replied, hearing the loss and bitterness in my voice. How could I not? I knew I hadn’t sent anyone away to safety… Not unless Lorraine managed to liaise with my European contacts and convince them that they only had one choice if anyone wanted to survive this bloody nightmare.
“Lester?”
Cutter’s voice broke through my thoughts, his voice gentle, full of understanding and I shook my head, I couldn’t handle compassion, not now. “No, Cutter,” I said, my voice almost normal. “I should have acted faster, I should have...” The number of people I had managed to send with Lorraine had been pitiful, those I had failed numbered far higher. “I should have done more.”
“You did the best you could, man,” Cutter tried again and I wondered for a moment when he’d become so observant of people before I remembered that my facade had slipped. “The bloody minister wouldn’t listen to you.”
I snorted at that, for once not caring about professionalism. Of course the minister hadn’t, the man was an imbecile, but that didn’t absolve me of my responsibility. I barely suppressed my wince when my chest twinged as I took a deep breath, knowing there was little point dwelling on my failure when I still had a job to do.
“Where is he anyway?” Hart asked, his opinion of my current political master clear. “Safe and sound and leaving us to solve his problem for him before he swoops in to claim the credit?”
“The government had moved to France,” I said, my opinion of them equally clear in my voice. “From where they will continue to run the country.”
“Saving their own skins,” Hart muttered in disgust.
“They’re politicians.” I knew the minister believed he was safe in France, that the protocols in place would prevent any incursion, but I’d spent my entire career planning for the worst. The Channel Tunnel was a weak point, even caved in and mined, but it wasn’t the only one, every boat carrying refugees from these blighted shores might harbour a Predator. Oh, I’m sure they’d be searched, but all it would take would be a few Predators making landfall and… As I had no wish to contemplate what would happen then I turned my attention to Cutter. “I do hope you have another plan, Professor, because I’m running out of arguments against the current one.”
“Plan?” Hart asked, turning to face me as he demanded, “What plan?”
“One that I don’t agree with, Dr Hart,” I replied, wondering just what would convince him that I was not the enemy? Still, I saw little reason to keep it from them, not now. “The United Nation’s Security Council have decided a tactical nuclear strike on London is the best response to this global threat.”
“What?” Hart scoffed. “We destroy the world to save it?”
I fully agreed with Hart’s sentiments, it was why I’d argued against the plan. I could, however, understand why the Security Council had made that decision. “They’re desperate.”
“They’re idiots,” Hart snapped back.
I nodded before I turned my attention back to the suspiciously quiet Cutter. “Have we got a plan, Cutter?” I had hoped he hadn’t put all his hopes in one Helen bloody Cutter, but that was obviously asking for too much. “For once, just once, couldn’t someone else have a plan B?”
“Yes.”
“I...” I stopped, blinking at Cutter before recovering my poise. “One that I can present to the Security Council?” I asked, sighing when my question was met with silence. “I’ll take that as a no, shall I?”
“We go back.” Cutter spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly that I knew the mule-headed man had already made his mind up, it was just a pity he hadn’t thought to discuss his idea with me first.
“Back where?” I asked, before my thoughts turned to the conversation I’d had with Ms Lewis after the ‘Bunker Incident’. Cutter couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he did, could he?
“We go back and change the past.” Cutter jabbed a finger at the image on the television. “We stop this from ever happening.”
Apparently he did. Still, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what he was saying. “We… do what? I didn’t think you wanted to risk the past?”
“We’re a bit bloody past that now, Lester. We’ve lost!” Cutter almost shouted in my face before quietening. “I’ve seen the projections. Total extinction within the year if they get out of the UK.”
I’d seen the same data and it was even worse than Cutter thought, extinction was swiftly coming for humanity, whether by nuclear fallout or the claws of a Predator. As much as it pained me to admit it, Cutter’s plan might be the only sane solution.
“How do you even know if we can change the past?” Hart asked. It was clear from his shocked expression that this was the first he’d heard of Cutter’s plan. All rather typical of the man, in my opinion.
“Helen,” I said slowly, earning myself a shocked look from Cutter as well as a confused one from Hart.
“Helen? How did you...” Cutter almost stumbled over his words.
“Ms Lewis was there when you meet your delightful wife in the bunker.” At Hart’s frown, I added, “When she told Ms Lewis she used to be someone called ‘Claudia Brown’.” I tilted my head slightly as I considered Cutter before deciding to offer an olive branch to him. “I might have judged your sanity a little too hastily, Professor.”
“Aye,” Cutter said before giving a sharp nod. “I’d have doubted someone coming to me with that story too, man.”
So good of the professor to finally concede to that. He was bloody lucky I had needed him too much to have him sectioned. “Excellent.” I clapped my hands together to assure I had their full attention. “Now we’re all one happy family again, would you care to explain your plan, Cutter?”
Cutter hesitated for a long moment, I assumed in surprise that I was even considering his plan, but he finally appeared to gather his thoughts. “The Forest of Dean is the key point to events, along with the anomaly there to the Permian. Especially as it moved through time - the first time we went though, we found a camp.”
“I do remember the briefing,” I said, injecting boredom into my tone in the hope, vain I expected, of Cutter getting to the point. It merely added to my belief that Cutter loved the sound of his own voice, no doubt the reason he’d become a lecturer in the first place, for all that he appeared not to like actually teaching his students.
“And,” Cutter spoke somewhat louder, probably not appreciating my interruption. “The second time we went through we made that camp. That end of the anomaly isn’t fixed in time and I believe we can use it to alter events.”
I nodded, recalling that report too. I frowned as something occurred to me.
“Lester?” Hart asked, ever-preceptive, as long as it wasn’t anything related to the Cutters.
“If you found the camp on your first visit,” I said slowly, trying to put my worry into words. “But only made it on your second, doesn’t that mean it was...” I trailed off, the only word I could think of distasteful to me.
“Predestined?” Cutter helpfully supplied the word I’d been avoiding.
“Precisely,” I agreed. “And wouldn’t that imply that we can’t change the past?”
“Except time did change when Claudia became Jenny,” Cutter pointed out and I felt able to breathe. “I believe,” he continued, “that one or more of the baby Predators survived, at least for a while. Something they did caused events to play out differently in this reality than in the one I came from.”
“It still seems rather far-fetched that an event millions of years in the past changed just one thing,” I said. Trying to wrap my mind around time travel always threatened to give me a migraine.
“There were other changes.” Cutter took on a stance I recognised from his lectures. “Apart from Claudia becoming Jenny, and Leek,” he paused when I swore under my breath. “Leek becoming your assistant. In my world, England won the 1966 World Cup. Mount Waugh is known as Mount Everest. The first man on the moon was Neil Armstrong, an American. I could go on.”
“Please don’t,” I said almost at the same moment Hart almost demanded, “And you want to change them back?”
“I believe that if we can stop the baby Predators escaping then time will reset to what it should have been.”
“Assuming that ‘your world’ was the ‘correct’ reality,” I said, making sure the sarcasm was clear in my voice.
“I still don’t see how that would help.” A mixture of confusion and distrust was evident in Hart’s tone.
I could see where Cutter was going with his thoughts but, well, I would be a poor Director of the ARC if I didn’t consider all sides of a problem. “Just because Leek,” and I knew my voice betrayed my intense dislike for the bloody man, “won't be in a position to aid Helen in her madness doesn’t mean she won’t recruit some other useful idiot to help her.” I resisted the urge to glance towards Hart, even if he had been struck by a moment of common sense and informed Cutter of Helen’s visits.
Cutter deflated somewhat at my words. “What do you suggest we do then? Wait for your bloody political masters to nuke us?”
“No,” I said, pausing as I considered the two men in front of me. If anyone had told me even a month ago that the fate of the world would be in their hands… “I suggest we attempt your plan. At least the going back in the past part. Whether it is Leek or someone else, you will know Helen’s plan.” I paused to gauge their… Cutter’s reaction, knowing my next words would not be received well by him. “Of course, if it is Leek helping her, we know exactly where his bunker is and what his plan is. It would be easier if we kept the changes, Cutter… Nick.”
“What?” Cutter exploded exactly as I had expected him to.
“He’s right,” Hart said, causing me to sigh. Of course he’d agree with Cutter. Hart’s next words had both Cutter and myself staring at him in disbelief. “I mean Lester’s right.” He gave a little self-deprecating smile as he met my shocked gaze before turning to Cutter, his voice full of pleading, I believe for Cutter to understand him, maybe even to forgive him. “As Lester’s said, we know where Leek’s bunker is, if we act at the right moment, we could stop the Predators from ever escaping. We could save everyone, Nick!”
“No.” Cutter, the stubborn fool, shook his head. “No, we can’t.”
“Can’t what?” I demanded. “Save everyone? Is this Claudia Brown worth the lives of every man, woman and child that’s died since that day?”
“No, and she’d be the first to say it,” Cutter admitted. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“Then please enlighten us, Professor.” Bloody hell, the man could never give a straight answer.
“We can’t stop the Predators escaping.”
“What!” I thought that was what his entire mad plan was about.
Cutter rubbed his face, suddenly looking haggard. “I read the reports from the bunker.”
“That must have been a first,” I couldn’t resist muttering, earning myself a brief wry grin from Hart.
“As I was saying,” Cutter spoke louder as he gave me a look I assumed was meant to be intimidating. “I read the reports, Abby’s in particular. She mentioned the creatures were trained to respond to a feeding siren.”
“I fail to see the problem, we can obviously use this siren to attract the creatures.”
“Maybe. When Helen showed me around, Leek didn’t have the Predators caged. He trusted his neural controllers to keep them obedient.”
“Much good it did him,” I muttered somewhat gleefully, earning myself looks from both men. “Your point is?” I asked when Cutter seemed somewhat tongue-tied.
“I have no idea if the Predators even associate that room with food.”
“And no reason to enter it?” I half-asked, half-stated. Damn, so much for that plan.
Cutter nodded. “But that’s not the main problem.”
“Good grief, Cutter,” I snapped. “You couldn’t have led with that?”
“Because I don’t see a way around it,” Cutter said slowly. “When I downloaded Connor’s virus onto Leek’s mainframe, it short-circuited the entire system. Including the controls for the siren.”
“Ah,” I said, understanding what Cutter meant, for Temple’s virus was also the only reason my team had managed to escape with their lives.
“There might be a way,” Hart said quietly, almost to himself.
“How?” I asked, wondering what I’d missed.
“Someone could set the siren off manually,” Hart replied.
“Maybe,” I allowed. “But, apart from the logistics of doing so, how does that help with the Predators?”
Hart looked briefly at Cutter. “Someone could also attract their attention and lead them to the cage room.”
“I’ve been chased by a single Predator, Hart,” I pointed out, meeting Hart’s eyes and cursing when I saw his determination. Just what I bloody needed. “I barely survived and then only with the help of a mammoth.”
“Look.” Hart turned his full attention on me, even if I had no idea why, it wasn’t as if convincing me would convince Cutter, the man never followed my orders if he had a better idea. “It makes sense. The only way to stop them escaping is to trap them in that cage room and this is the only way I can see we can do it.”
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