The ladder, 03:10

"Buddy..." Dan chokes on tears, afraid for her newfound friend.

Ric pulls her into a hug, running a hand over her hair. "Shh. She'll be fine. The shift brought her back to your time, and it's probably for the best."

"Are you sure? This rainbow thing, is it normal?" She bends down to pick up her tool and pushes it back into her waistband.

"Yes. It's not visible to yourself if in transfer, but each time you left me, I was doused in rainbow sparks." He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's climb that ladder. Can you carry this for me?"

Dan hesitates a moment, worried for Buddy who will be alone and disoriented on the parking lot. Then she shakes off her irritation and takes the extinguisher from Ric. "Can't we just discard it?"

"I'd prefer not to. It's a chronological anomaly." He ushers her up the first rungs. "I'll try to pull up the ladder behind us."

Dan looks up the wall and gulps down the clot of fear suddenly clogging her throat before she begins to climb, hampered by the cumbersome cylinder she holds with her left hand. After a few metres, she stops to check on Ric. He is busy pulling up the ladder. The manoeuvre seems acrobatic. When she hears the metallic sound of the latch closing, Dan climbs on, afraid to lose more time.

The ladder shudders in its rusty fittings under the weight of the two climbers. How much strain can the weather-beaten fixation bolts take? She tries to push the unpleasant thought away, aware she will be the first to realise when the breaking load of construction is exceeded. The building seems enormous, its height especially. She already passed four rows of windows at least, and, looking upwards, she recognises several other storeys above, windows faintly reflecting the city lights. With a sigh, she shifts her grip on the extinguisher and climbs on.

Ric's ragged voice betrays he is out of breath, too. "Are you fine? Do you want me to carry the extinguisher?"

"No worries. I've got it, only pray the ladder doesn't break free from the wall."

"It will hold... I hope."

Dan shakes her head, smiling at his poor attempt at humour. This was the fifth storey. I should have counted from below how many there are.

From her position, the building emits the mood of an endless, sheer wall. Lost in her concentration, she almost misses a loud, metallic clatter resounding through the courtyard. Dan glances over her shoulder and stops to have a better look. Below her, Ric's face is turned upward, and she waves with the extinguisher to direct his attention towards the door they passed through minutes before. He understands her gesture.

The door stands wide open now, and in the wandering beam of a strong torch, Dan recognises at least three persons. Ric's whisper shakes her out of her paralysation. "Climb on, slowly, to keep the noise low."

"I'll try."

Her confidence in her soundless climbing skills is weak to lacking. If someone looks up... but somewhere, she read that humans glance downwards most of the time. If we don't prompt the people in the yard to check the higher parts of the walls, we might reach the roof before they see us.

Carefully, she lifts one foot after the other, making sure she keeps her footing and that the ladder doesn't pick up swinging. Then another thought hits her tired brain. "Ric, what happens if the time machine sends me back while climbing?" Her whisper is hoarse. "I wouldn't survive the fall when I reappear."

Instead of an answer, Ric's hand encloses her ankle in a death grip. She swallows an anxious shriek and tries to figure out how to climb on. Paralysed, she clings to the ladder until Ric pushes her foot upward. It turns out climbing isn't a problem as long as she proceeds in a steady rhythm and Ric synchronises his movements with hers. She moves on, counting the rungs until she gets used to the awkward caterpillar mode of locomotion. As a bonus, the ladder seems in a better state of repair the higher they climb. Her fingers sense less rust and the bolts take her weight without groaning.

From the yard, voices reach Dan's ears, but she can't understand what they are talking about. She suppresses the urge to look down, afraid to suffer from a bout of acrophobia. It's not one of her usual problems, but in her exhausted condition, she might experience it, anyway. Even thinking of it lets her panic rise, and she concentrates on counting the rungs and storeys instead.

Eight rows of windows, how big is this chunk of concrete? Dan risks a short glance upwards and, surprised, takes in the outline of a protective cage around the ladder painted black against the night sky. Only a few metres above her, a protrusion of the facade signals the nearness of the roof.

New energy and motivation flood her veins and she climbs faster, causing Ric to lose the rhythm. She has to stop to allow him to renew his grip on her ankle and pick up the beat again.

"Sorry. Only a few more steps to the edge, it spurred me on."

Ric's breath comes heavy, and he only presses her ankle in answer. She continues the ascent, concentrated and with gritted teeth. This was storey number nine, and the tenth should be the last one. Another few metres and they have done it. She deliberately keeps the pace, counting between clenched teeth, when bright lights flood the yard.

Dan flinches, hesitates for a moment but climbs on when no shouts or sirens follow the lights. Someone must have found the switch for the outside illumination.

A short flicker of the lights makes her wonder if another time shift is due. But she doesn't interrupt her flight. At their height, they remain secure in the shadows. Lost in thoughts, she reaches the cage enclosing the ladder. A tiny platform allows her to step back, and she reaches out for the edge of the roof. The voices in the yard get louder, excited. Dan resists the urge to check out what's happening and searches secure grips for her hands instead. She pushes the fire extinguisher over the edge. It disappears clattering into the darkness.

Dan stops, listening. She is about to pull herself over the parapet when the unmistakable sound of rotor blades tears through the night.