I check the car over again: It is running superbly,
as it has done since I lifted it two weeks ago from a street in some
suburb.

It's a classic Dodge V8 with a silver re-spray. Not the most sensible
of getaway cars for four people, but it's got quite high ground clearance
compared to modern cars and it won’t let us down.

I examine the thick cable which emerges from under the engine, then I feed
its massive bulk through my hands to where it joins the Machine, with all
its beeping lights and quivering dials.

I check over the Machine for the twentieth time this morning, paying
special attention to the pre-programmed date settings, the first of which
is set for exactly six months in the past.

I
go start the car and rev it a bit to pump some juice to the Machine. I take another deep breath, before lowering myself into
the leather upholstery at its center.
