The Seventh Tide by Joan Lennon Page A

shot out from the platform, snaring the targets on the first cast and winching them to safety with such enthusiasm that Jay had to leap out of the way. Two Medi-boxes opened automatically to receive them, then hissed shut and began their analysis. Jay rushed over and tried to see through the lids, but they had already opaqued. The boxes hummed busily, while giving nothing away. She would just have to wait to find out who on earth these people were and how on earth they’d ended up in the sea…
    Which was when it struck her that she was not going to be the only one wanting to know those things. RNLI deployment would automatically set off alarms all over the place – medical staff for one, but worse than that, there were the Guardians. They’d be swarming out of the hatch before she knew it and she did not want them finding her here!
    She had already started to sprint for the exit, when she remembered the man in the coat and screeched to a halt. She could blame it on him! RD-class were always pressing the wrong buttons at the wrong times…
    Without stopping to consider the consequences, Jay turned on her heel, raced over to the RNLI instead, flipped open the control panel and punched in thestandard code all O-class were taught for ‘False Alarm’ and ‘RD Error’. She didn’t think, But now the people in the boxes are my responsibility or What if they’re dangerous ? or even What do I do if the Medi-boxes can’t save them and they die?! She just banged in the codes and ran back to see if the strangers were ready to emerge.
    One of the boxes was making heavy weather of its work. Must be malfunctioning , she thought. The machine couldn’t seem to make up its mind whether it had one or two rescue subjects inside it, or even what their species might be. (In the early days of the RNLI there had been instances of disconcerted seals being rescued against their will and popped into Medi-boxes, which then stalled on the Basic Limb Count.)
    She went to check the other box. It seemed to be working properly, anyway. Jay was able to access the initial report now, with details of gender, height, weight, age, injuries, prognosis and so on. She got as far as ‘Subject is male, height 165 centimetres, weight 71 kilos (estimated dry weight), approximately 15 years of age, fractured left olecranon…’ when a sequence of frustrated beeps distracted her. It was the other, malfunctioning Medi-box, giving up the ghost. Its lid opened and a boy with beautiful fair hair climbed out.
    A boy with beautiful fair hair, and an enormous rat…
    She knew immediately that he wasn’t like her. It wasn’t just the big rodent round his neck. It wasn’t the clothes, though they were strange – nice material, nice style, but not like anything she’d seen before. Or the stunning hair (unconsciously she put a hand up to her own cropped head). It was something else, something about the wayhis face was put together or a look in his eyes – something that made her overwhelmingly aware of difference…
    And then he grinned, a little shakily, and she was not so sure any more.
    ‘I don’t know when I’m going to get used to this,’ he said. ‘I’m Eo. Where’s Adom? He was trying to save us from the vortex, which was very brave, though it was actually the saint we were expecting to be given, so he may be a little confused. Well, actually, I am too. Where is this, and when is this?’
    These were the kinds of question Guardians asked when they suspected you of being under the influence of over-patching. ‘Greater Glasgow, 30/10/2314,’ she answered promptly, ‘and you’ve been acting a lot stranger than I have!’ She didn’t for an instant think he could actually be a Guardian… could he?
    ‘What? 2314 ?! That’s amazing! That’s really…’ He poked a finger at the creature round his neck. ‘Come on, Professor, aren’t you excited?! What are you being so quiet about? At least say hello to the nice lady – her box thing saved your