by Jodi Taylor
They sat in silence. A fleet of police drones flashed past, sirens wailing and blue lights flashing.
Commander Hay stirred. ‘This space travel must cease forthwith, Director. You must see that. You were lucky this time but the next time could be a horrible catastrophe. Just because a thing can be done does not mean it should be done.’
‘No harm has come of it so far.’
‘You haven’t been back that long.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I said that you haven’t been back from Mars that long – in your time, that is – so there hasn’t really been time for anything unfortunate to transpire.’
‘Oh, no. Sorry. Not that jump. Sorry. Didn’t mean to confuse you.’
The commander gripped her desk again and said very slowly and very distinctly. ‘There have been other jumps?’
‘Oh no. No. No.’
The commander relaxed very slightly.
‘Only one.’
The desk took another bashing.
They stared at each other and then, for Commander Hay, the tiny thing that had been niggling away at the back of her mind suddenly burst forth, alien-like, only with slightly more impact.
‘Oh my God – this time. You said, “this time”. When you were talking about getting Lewis back into the pod. You said, “We had the airlock sorted this time.” You’ve done this before, haven’t you?’
Director Pinkerton put down her glass. ‘Well, of course we have. It’s a long way to Mars. Anything could have gone wrong. We’re not complete idiots, you know. We thought a practice jump would be a good idea.’
The commander resisted the urge to bang her head on her desk but, for some reason, found herself more than happy to entertain the idea of banging Director Pinkerton’s. Quite hard.
‘I suspect I already know the answer to this one, but where and when?’
‘Our practice jump? Well, obviously we had to make sure everything worked properly. That the coordinates were correct and that the pod could withstand ...’
‘Where?’
‘... the lack of ...’
‘Where?’
‘What?’
‘Where? Where did you go?’
‘There’s no need to shout. The Sea of Tranquillity. July 20th 1969.’
Commander Hay paled. ‘Oh, dear God – it was you, wasn’t it? How could I not know it was you? You did it. You fluttered that bloody flag.’
‘Oh – that. Yes, I’m afraid we did. Sorry about that. We opened the door for a better view. The airlock malfunctioned and the escaping air fluttered their flag We hoped no one would notice, but it would seem they did.’
Commander Hay groped for words. ‘You ... Do you realise that because of that, because the flag fluttered, even today substantial numbers of people are convinced the moon landings never took place? That the whole thing was a government conspiracy. Or a cover-up. Or simply to put one over on the Russians. The accusations of fakery ... the damage to the government’s reputation ...?’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that too much. You can’t damage a government’s reputation. They’re too busy doing that themselves.’
‘But ... but ...’
Director Pinkerton appeared to take pity. ‘No, it’s all right, Commander, don’t worry. That can’t ever happen again. That’s why we’ve set up an improved airlock system. It definitely won’t happen next time.’
‘There isn’t going to be a next time.’
Director Pinkerton favoured her with a sunny smile. ‘But there already was a next time. We went to Mars. I thought that was why I was here.’
The universe held its breath and then, for the second time that day, a dreadful scream of rage and frustration echoed through the corridors of power.
Those on the point of shutting down their equipment and departing for the day, suddenly experienced a strong desire to remain safely at their desks, at least until the shouting had stopped, and decided that, with personal appraisals next month, a little midnight oil, conspicuously burned, might not be such a bad idea after all.
In another part of the building, with two aspirin and two cups of coffee inside him, Captain Farenden perceived the time had come to return to duty.
THE END
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all Earthlets.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to LingoJam who provided the translation from Martian.
The description of the Roundheads and Cavaliers is taken from 1066 and All That, written by Sellar and Yeatman, and first published in Punch magazine.
Published by Accent Press Ltd 2018
ISBN 9781786156174
Copyright © Jodi Taylor 2018
The right of Jodi Taylor to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers:
Accent Press Ltd
Octavo House
West Bute Street
Cardiff
CF10 5LJ
Proudly published by Accent Press
www.accentpress.co.uk