by Jodi Taylor
‘So you saved his life.’
‘It needed saving.’
‘Only because you were there illegally.’
But if we hadn’t been there we wouldn’t have been able to save him.’
‘If you hadn’t been there he wouldn’t have needed saving.’
The tin cans were rolling down the cobbled street again.
‘Well, as you yourself just said, we didn’t have a choice.’
Commander Hay blinked. ‘I really don’t think I said any such thing.’
‘Yes, you did. You more than implied it was our fault.’
‘It was your fault.’
‘And so,’ said Director Pinkerton, picking up on that point, ‘it was our responsibility to put things right.’
‘But you didn’t put things right. You made them considerably worse.’
A picture of bewildered innocence that fooled no one, Director Pinkerton enquired in what way had she made things worse.
Commander Hay slapped her desk in frustration. ‘Can’t you see what you’ve done? The implications of what you’ve done?’
Director Pinkerton, who could see very clearly what they’d done and was not completely oblivious to the implications, but who was also aware of the folly of showing fear in the face of the Time Police, replied serenely that of course she could. ‘We ensured the success of the first manned mission to Mars. The eyes of the world were watching. All those people poised to protest about how the cost, the effort and the resources should have been channelled into something they thought more important would have gone into overdrive. To have someone die in the first hours of the first manned mission to our first planet ... I couldn’t allow that to happen.’
Commander Hay was on her feet. ‘It wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been there in the first place.’
‘But it’s our job, Commander. We observe historical events in contemporary time. To do that, you actually have to be there. At the right time and in the right place. In this instance ... Mars.’
There was a short silence and then, in the voice of one expecting the worst, Commander Hay said, ‘ You went outside to get him, didn’t you?’
‘Well, not me personally. My team and I were monitoring radiation levels and communications. Maxwell and Peterson said they didn’t have much on at the moment so they’d go. It only took a few minutes. They already had their suits on. We got them helmeted, carried out a quick oxygen check and away they went.’
‘Across the surface of Mars.’
Director Pinkerton briefly contemplated a sarcastic, ‘No – across the surface of Pluto,’ response, but wisely decided against it, and nodded instead.
Commander Hay walked to her window and stared unseeingly at London happening around them. ‘Charlie, why don’t we know anything about this?’
‘No one knows about it,’ said Director Pinkerton. ‘As far as the world is concerned, the first manned mission to Mars was flawless in its design and execution. It paved the way for three subsequent missions and laid the foundations of the Gale One and Two settlements. And I believe more settlements are planned.’
‘That’s what would have happened, but now – now – thanks to you – it can’t.’
‘Really? I don’t see why not?’
‘Let me summarise. You caused an injury to a member of the crew. He should have died.’
‘No, he shouldn’t. That’s the point I’m trying to make. He should not have died. Therefore, it was up to us to ensure he didn’t. So we did.’
‘How?’
‘Successfully.’
Commander Hay gritted her teeth. ‘How? How exactly did you ensure his survival?’
‘Well ... Maxwell and Peterson nipped outside and brought him back into the pod.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, it wasn’t a problem, we were monitoring communications and we knew we had a whole six minutes before the flare hit. They half-lifted, half-dragged him in – things weigh less on Mars, you know,’ she explained kindly. ‘And we had the airlock sorted this time and it worked very well, I’m pleased to say. Everyone was safely inside and we still had two minutes to spare.’
‘But with a decision to make,’ said Captain Farenden, softly.
‘Yes. From the information we’d gathered, we knew the flare would last twenty-five minutes longer than First Officer Lewis’s oxygen. All the other astronauts were piling into their underground shelter. They were calling to him right up until the very last moment. We were very tempted to respond but we didn’t. Their last sentence was cut off in mid-word so we guessed they’d closed the hatch.’
She stopped. ‘And we had to go, too, because we hadn’t planned on staying that long. We were only going to stay until the arrival of the solar flare. We didn’t have enough oxygen, either. Plus, as I said, while the piss protection was adequate for ordinary cosmic radiation we didn’t have a great deal of confidence in its ability to protect us against a solar flare.’ She took a deep breath. ‘So we jumped.’
‘You ... jumped?’
‘Yes.’
‘But what of Lewis? How were you able to jump with him on board?’
‘Well, obviously he was marked for imminent destruction, wasn’t he, which was why we were able to get him out.’
‘But he didn’t die.’
‘Thanks to us.’
‘ But you were able to jump with him on board.’
‘Because he was going to die.’
Commander Hay briefly closed her eyes, thrust away the niggling thought at the back of her mind because it was St Mary’s and she needed all her wits about her, opened them again and shifted her ground slightly. ‘And you took him back to St Mary’s.’
‘Yes.’
‘To your own time.’
‘Yes.’
‘A contemporary.’
‘Yes.’
‘Just to be clear. A contemporary from the time of Maxwell and Peterson.’
‘Yes.’
‘You removed a man who would certainly have died, from his own time.’
‘Well, yes ... you said it. He would have died.’
‘As he should have!’
‘No, he shouldn’t, Commander. We’ve covered this already.’
Another unearthly cry of rage and frustration echoed through the Time Police corridors of power. Those just beginning to consider emerging for lunch thought better of it and remembered the existence of a pack of stale biscuits in their bottom drawer.
In the interests of moving things on, Captain Farenden enquired as to the whereabout of First Officer Lewis. ‘At this very moment.’
‘Dead, I should think,’ said Pinkie, calmly, and blinked in their combined stares. ‘Old age probably. Remember, all this happened some time ago.’
‘I meant,’ he said carefully, perceiving his employer might temporarily be beyond speech, ‘ where did you leave Commander Lewis?’
‘Oh, gotcha. Our medical centre.’
‘What?’ Commander Hay was back in the game.
‘Blissfully unaware, obviously. We’re keeping him unconscious.’
‘And your intentions concerning Commander Lewis?’
‘Well, we’re going to put him back, aren’t we? We can’t keep him. He’s not a pet.’
‘Director Pinkerton, are you taking any of this seriously?’
‘Yes of course I am, although you don’t make it very easy. We’ve spent the time examining every scrap of data we could lay our hands on and we’ve located a skylight some hundred yards from our landing sight.’
Commander Hay paused and again turned to her adjutant for clarification. ‘A what?’
He did not let her down. ‘A skylight, ma’am. A hole in the ground that is formed when part of a lava tube collapses.’
‘Lava tube?’
‘A natural passage, ma’am, made by lava flowing beneath the surface and leaving channels or hollow tubes in its wake. Occasionally the roof falls in leaving what is known as a skylight.’
‘You seem to know
a lot about it, Charlie.’
‘ I was signed up for the astronaut training programme, ma’am, but the Time Wars got in the way.’
Director Pinkerton regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then turned back to Commander Hay and swept on with enthusiasm.
‘The skylight is perfect, Commander. This is something down which he could conceivably have fallen but – and this is the important bit – it’s below ground and will therefore offer him complete protection from the oncoming flare. We intend to leave him there and when the danger has passed his colleagues will form a search party at the earliest opportunity. He will be discovered safe and sound to worldwide relief. Still unconscious, obviously, and completely unaware of everything that has happened, but otherwise unharmed. The world will rejoice at his lucky escape and everything will be back on track.’
She beamed.
Captain Farenden, who had been performing some calculations on his scratchpad said, ‘But his oxygen?’
Director Pinkerton’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly. ‘Well, yes, that is a small problem. The flare lasts twenty-five minutes longer than his oxygen supply so we’ll have to give him a bit of a top up.’
‘But his gauge will show...’
‘Faulty gauge.’
‘Is it?’
‘It will be.’
‘But how will you explain the discrepancy?’
‘I shan’t.’
‘How will anyone explain the discrepancy?’
‘They can’t. It’ll just be one of those things.’
‘You realise the conspiracy theorists will go into overdrive and claim the astronauts never left Earth in the first place?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s not proper space exploration unless a large section of the population believes it never happened. Gives it validity, so to speak.’
Commander Hay sat back in her chair. Director Pinkerton stared out of the window, admiring the view. Captain Farenden shut down his scratchpad. The room was silent. Commander Hay appeared to be thinking.
Eventually, she said, ‘And suppose I withhold my permission?’
Director Pinkerton smiled brightly. ‘I don’t need your permission, Commander, as you are well aware. Now, unless you’re going to have me shot, I need to get back and release our young man back into the wild.’
‘The shooting part has its attractions,’ said the commander, vaguely, her thoughts elsewhere.
Director Pinkerton glanced again at Captain Farenden, occupied with putting his scratchpad away, held the commander’ s eye for a moment and then said, ‘... And really, Commander, I find your suggestion that I permit a member of the Time Police to accompany us for the purposes of overseeing Mr Lewis’s safe return to be grossly insulting.’
They looked at each other for a long, long moment until Commander Hay moved a pencil to the other side of her desk and said, ‘Director Pinkerton, I’m afraid I must insist. The only way I can sanction any return to Mars is if a member of this organisation accompanies you. That is my final word on the subject.’
Neither of them so much as glanced at a suddenly frozen Captain Farenden before Director Pinkerton, with every show of reluctance said, ‘Very well, Commander. If you insist.’
‘I do. However, your cooperation is very much appreciated. Charlie – don’t just sit there.’
‘What? Sorry ma’am, I mean ... what?’
‘Director Pinkerton has graciously given her permission for you to join them for their return trip. You’d better shoot off and do whatever you think is necessary before leaving for Mars.’
Captain Farenden, who, so far, had coped pretty well with whatever life had thrown at him, appeared to be struggling to keep up. ‘Do you mean, ma’am ... I’m sorry, I’m not quite clear as to your intention and ...’
‘My intention,’ she said testily, ‘is to despatch you to verify the safe return of the unfortunate Mr Lewis to his proper place in time and space and then ensure Director Pinkerton’s team return directly to St Mary’s.’ She paused, and then, with the air of one for whom revenge is sweet, continued, ‘This re-classifying Pluto as a planet again has caused a lot of confrontation in certain quarters. I wouldn’t put it past Director Pinkerton to go poking around the outer solar system as soon as she thinks my back is turned. And with Maxwell and Peterson egging her on. You know what they’re like. Keep your ears open while you’re at St Mary’s and see what you can pick up.’
‘A terrible disease probably,’ he said, cheerfully, and slammed the door behind him.
Commander Hay smiled. ‘Thank you, Director.’
‘He’s a nice boy.’
‘He is. Try not to damage him.’
‘I can make no promises but we’ll give it our best shot. He looks as if a lot has happened to him already.’
‘It has. I feel it’s his turn for something good.’
‘Understood.’
‘ Of course, should anything happen to him you may find you need the coordinates of Alpha Centauri speedily to hand.’
‘Understood.’
‘Good luck, Director.’
‘Thank you.’
The door closed behind her. Commander Hay swivelled in her chair, stared sightlessly out of the window, and frowned.
If Director Pinkerton thought she might return to the pod bay unescorted, she was mistaken. Two rather large officers were loitering with intent in the corridor. Instructing them to try to keep up, she set a brisk pace, remarking rather smugly to Captain Farenden that she bet he never thought he’d be doing this when he woke up that morning.
Feeling he should at least make a feeble effort to maintain Time Police prestige, he replied, ‘Of course I did. Happens to me all the time. It gets old after a while, don’t you think?’
She clapped him on the shoulder. ‘You’ll do.’
Ten minutes later, back at her St Mary’s, she was ushering Captain Farenden into Hawking Hangar.
‘Welcome to St Mary’s, Captain.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. Good to be here.’
‘First visit?’
‘To this current St Mary’s, yes.’
Turning to her Chief Technical Officer, a tall Aboriginal with a strong accent, she said, ‘We have a friend joining us today, Edgar. Make sure no one shoots him, will you?’
‘I shall do my best, ma’am.’
‘And our other guest?’
‘Still sleeping peacefully.’
‘Right then, let’s get this show on the road before he wakes up. Maxwell and Peterson?’
‘Availing themselves of our facilities.’
She was alarmed. ‘Not the library?’
‘No, ma’am – lunch.’
‘Thank heavens. Get them down here, will you, please? Jump time in thirty minutes. And can someone get Captain Farenden a biosuit, please?’
‘Um,’ said Farenden, slightly embarrassed. ‘I’m not sure I’m in a position where I will be able to make a contribution.’
‘No problem,’ said Chief Rice. ‘This is St Mary’s. There’s always plenty of the amber nectar sloshing around. In fact, I feel a contribution coming on, meself. You just come along with me, mate.’
Assembling inside the pod some thirty minutes later, Director Pinkerton ran her eye over her crew. Chief Rice sat at the console. To his right, Miss Burroughs frowned at a bank of equipment. The lockers had all been stripped out and the walls lagged with something that did not bear close examination.
A long bench ran along the wall where the lockers had been. Captain Farenden took his place alongside Dr Maxwell who seemed delighted to see him again.
‘Hey, Charlie. Fancy seeing you here. Some sort of punishment, is it?’
‘Probably.’ He stared down at the unfortunate Mr Lewis, still encased in his blue spacesuit and laid neatly on the floor at their feet.
‘You’ve got ten to fifteen minutes,’ reported the doctor, stowing his gear and getting to his feet. ‘After which he’s going to start coming around. He’s going to be very disorientated and groggy.
It really would be best if he could be discovered as quickly as possible. At the very least someone should keep an eye on him until that happens. He shouldn’t be left alone.’
Director Pinkerton nodded. ‘Understood, doctor.’
‘Well, good luck everyone.’ He disappeared,
‘Everyone belted in?’ said Chief Rice. ‘All right, then. In your own time, Miss Burroughs.’
‘Sir. Computer, initiate jump.’
Captain Farenden, veteran of countless jumps, was conscious of a hot knot where his stomach used to be.
The computer intoned, ‘Jump initiated.’
And the world went white.
They landed with the very gentlest of bumps. For a moment, there was silence and then Maxwell said to Peterson, ‘See, that’s how everyone else does it.’
Peterson ignored her, saying brightly, ‘Well, here we are again.’
‘But not for long,’ said Dr Pinkerton. ‘Doctor Peterson and Captain Farenden, if you could organise Mr Lewis into the airlock, please. Dr Maxwell, you have the skylight’s position?’
‘I do, ma’am.’
Chief Rice turned from the console and said, ‘ Director ... I think I should accompany them.’
‘No, I’m sorry, Chief. I need both you and Miss Burroughs here. We can’t afford to have anything happen to either of you.’
Both Burroughs and Rice looked as if they were trying not to sigh too deeply.
‘Quickly now. The flare has passed and the crew will be emerging at any moment. We must have him in place before that happens. Chief?’
‘Airlock ready and waiting, ma’am. Let’s hope it doesn’t turn anyone inside out this time round.’
‘What?’ said Captain Farenden, startled, but it was too late. He was bundled into the airlock alongside Dr Peterson who patted him amiably on the shoulder and told him to keep his pecker up, an expression which appeared to cause him considerable confusion.
Green lights flashed and the outer door opened.
‘And off we go,’ said Peterson cheerfully.
The First Officer Lewis Replacement Team assembled outside the pod and looked about them.
