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“So, once you’d warned Scott about me, what were you planning to do next?”
    Jace’s face felt hot. “I hadn’t decided,” he muttered. He drained his drink so he didn’t have to look at Quinn.
    Quinn stood, smiling. “Let’s go and see Scott. You shall judge between us.”
    They headed for the exit, Quinn waving amiably at the row of girls as they walked past them and up the stairs. Jace’s legs felt tired and his head ached. Having a nap in the daytime was never a good idea. That vile drink hadn’t helped, either. He should have had the sense to leave it.
    A couple were entering Scott’s building as they neared the door, and they followed them into the lobby. The couple peeled off to the left, and Quinn pushed the button for the elevator. It arrived and they got in. The doors slid shut. Jace yawned uncontrollably.
    “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
    Quinn was watching him oddly, like he was waiting for something. Jace could hardly keep his eyes open. He swayed and had to grab the hand rail for support. Suddenly he understood. Oh shit . He fumbled for his gun with slow fingers, but Quinn already had his out, pointing at Jace.

CHAPTER 9
The dark side
    Jace smelled wool and became aware that he was lying on a rug or carpet. The memory of Quinn’s perfidy flooded his mind, and he concentrated on appearing to be unconscious while he assessed his situation. The room was warm and quiet, the hum of traffic just audible. Cautiously, he flexed his muscles, and discovered he couldn’t move freely. His hands were fastened behind him with the plastic cuffs the department used. His feet were tied too. The shoulder he lay on was numb from his awkward position, his head throbbed and he felt queasy. Hot panic surged through him. Quinn was going to kill him instead of Scott. One scapegoat was as good as another.
    “You’re awake.” Quinn’s voice.
    Jace opened his eyes. They were in a smallish modern living room elegantly decorated in blues and greys. Quinn sat on a sofa a few feet from him, drink in hand, relaxed. He had taken off his jacket, and looked so normal that part of Jace’s mind could not quite believe this was happening. It was, though; Quinn, his boss, had drugged him and tied him up. He could think of nothing there was any point in saying. He cursed himself for his stupidity and lack of judgment.
    “I’m sorry about this, Jace. I’d far rather it was Scott lying where you are – not that he would be, because I wouldn’t want to talk to him first.” Quinn lifted the cuff of his Darcy shirt, revealing the silver TiTrav on his left wrist. “You guessed right, in every respect. Remarkable. You’re a credit to the department – and my judgment in hiring you. But you have a failing. You didn’t trust your own conclusions enough, and you trusted me too much.”
    Jace was damned if he was going to ask what Quinn had planned for him. He’d find out all too soon. “Why did you do it?”
    “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to get my hands on a TiTrav for some time. I imagined I’d be able to borrow one of the department’s, but the security on them is ridiculously tight, even for me.” He added with interest, “Don’t tell me you’ve never fantasized about being able to travel in time?”
    Jace had. As a teenager he’d been obsessed with the idea ever since reading about the early experiments, which back then no one thought would have a practical application. If he was honest, one of the main, if undeclared, reasons he’d applied to join IEMA was the hope he might get the chance to time travel. Senior officers did make regular (strictly controlled) forays into the future, to monitor climate change, population trends and similar data. Quinn had. Jace was not high enough up the ladder to be eligible yet. “Of course I have. But it’s banned for a reason. Because it’s so easy to screw up the future.”
    “Is that what you think?” Quinn laughed wryly.