News from the Squares

by Robert Llewellyn

  Nkoyo raised her hand slightly as if to calm the situation, although from where I was sitting everything was almost eerily calm. I think I may have grimaced at that moment even though I was trying very hard to remain neutral.

  ‘So, you are correct about the date,’ said Nkoyo. ‘It is August 5th 2211 and you are in London. If you have actually come from past, from as you say the year 2011 then no doubt the London you knew back then was very different, much smaller and more compact. The area you would have known as London is indeed now mostly a large tidal inlet, a small inland sea might be a better description.’

  I nodded, clearly wherever I had ended up, I was guessing maybe somewhere like Norfolk, was just an area of Gardenia I hadn’t seen in my brief travels. I was surprised though that William or someone from Goldacre Hall hadn’t mentioned the squares. Whatever I did see for those few panicky moments when I came out of the cloud was on a truly impressive scale, it seemed a bit odd no one had mentioned it.

  ‘However, although we are clearly very intrigued by your story,’ said Nkoyo, ‘and all the evidence suggests that what you are telling us is a truth, we are very confused by your references to Gardenia. Would you like to explain to us what you meant when you said you came from a place called Gardenia and a place called Didcot which doesn’t exist anymore.’

  ‘Oh yeah, sure,’ I said, again I noticed the older woman with the necklace react to this, almost as if she found my voice upsetting. It made me nervous, I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t shouting or making threatening gestures, I was sitting as still as I could which I admit may have included some nervous twitching.

  ‘So, I was originally flying to attend a meeting,’ I said trying desperately to speak slowly and clearly. ‘This was back in 2011, flying from Enstone, just outside Chipping Norton, the airfield where I keep my plane.’

  It was fairly obvious the names of towns and airfields were making no impression on them; they didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.

  ‘Okay, so I was flying in the plane on my way to a meeting in Basingstoke when I was engulfed by a large cloud, a very unusual cloud which I now know to be some kind of anomaly, that’s how it was described to me, an anomaly caused by enormous amounts of electricity passing down a very fine cable from a high level solar kite. Sorry, you probably know all about this kind of thing, but it was all news to me. When I came out of the cloud I was in the same place, just outside Didcot, but at another time.’

  ‘Can you describe the cloud in a little more detail?’ said Nkoyo. ‘This may be very important.’

  I shrugged. ‘Well, it was a cloud, I mean, it looked like a low- level storm cloud from my viewpoint. There were no other storm clouds around on either occasion, just this very dense, dark cloud in an otherwise fairly clear sky. It was cloud-shaped, a kind of cumulonimbus formation, the top height, probably more than six thousand meters, which is far higher than I can fly in the Yuneec, the base more like one thousand.’

  ‘I see, thank you, carry on,’ said Nkoyo. I did notice that as I was explaining the cloud they seemed to converse with each other in a subtle way that women always seem good at and I never know what’s going on.

  I carried on: ‘I soon learned that I was two hundred years in the future, the year was 2211 and the place was called Gardenia. I stayed there for two months, I got to know the people, I worked with them, I travelled around the world using the pod transportation system they had, I became very involved with them.’

  I had considered telling them about Grace and my baby but something, for once, told me to hold this information back for the time being.

  ‘Then, this morning I was woken by the people who had looked after me so kindly and they informed me that the anomalous cloud had reappeared in the same place, they didn’t seem to know what it was and I certainly don’t. But I thought, stupidly I can now see, that it might be the way back to my own time. I took off in the plane, climbed as high as I could and entered the cloud. That bit is hard to describe and if you’re not a pilot it wouldn’t make much sense, but it was very disorientating. I couldn’t see two meters in front of me. When I came out of the cloud again I saw the squares below me, just squares for as far as I could see. It made no sense to me at all. After that I’m afraid I don’t know exactly what happened, only that I must have crashed and caused some damage to a tree for which I am truly sorry. Also my plane is obviously wrecked and that is very upsetting for me. That’s really the best explanation I can give you at the moment.’

  The women sat in silence, all of them staring at me except Nkoyo who was looking down at something on the table in front of her. I sat as still as I could but I noticed my right leg was twitching.

  ‘So what you are suggesting?’ said Nkoyo eventually. ‘Is that you have been in an alternative reality, another world?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said and the shock ran through me. ‘You mean, you don’t know about Gardenia?’

  Nkoyo shook her head. ‘No, we have never heard of it. We have checked all our records and there is no mention of anything like that in London. You see Gavin, we are all struggling with our scepticism here. It sounds outrageous and impossible, but you do appear to be telling a truth.’

  ‘A truth?’ I asked.

  ‘It would appear to feel like a truth to you. Clearly, from where we are sitting now, it’s very hard to understand.’ Nkoyo sounded sympathetic, but it was as if she was talking to a deluded fool, which, I have to say, is what I was beginning to feel like.

  ‘So what you’re now telling me,’ I said, feeling the panic starting to rise, ‘is that where I am is in London in 2211 but it’s a different 2211 from the one I’ve just left, meaning that Gardenia doesn’t exist?’

  I think I flopped back in the sofa thing at that moment. My head was now, to use the parlance of my era, completely buggered.

  ‘We currently have no other explanation at our disposal,’ said Nkoyo. ‘You are in London. It is anyone’s guess where Gardenia is, how real it is, how real your experiences have been. You are showing no obvious signs of head injury or dementia but clearly we have to be cautious. We can tell from the tests we have already run that there are certain telltale clues which confirm to us that you are indeed from an era long ago.’

  ‘Telltale clues?’ I asked.

  ‘Certain substances were discovered in your tissues that no longer exist outside a laboratory, you have clearly been exposed to certain toxins which are no longer in circulation.’

  ‘Oh blimey,’ I said, feeling ever more anxious.

  ‘This is a fascinating turn of events,’ said Nkoyo. ‘You are, I’m afraid, Gavin, a fascinating case and you will attract a great deal of attention. For a start, Professor Etheridge—’ she gestured to a woman sitting beside her ‘—is a historian. She would obviously like to learn more of your original era.’

  The woman she was gesturing toward gave me a curt nod.

  ‘At present though, we have a problem to deal with. As I mentioned there is great interest in your appearance, we need to manage that interest so as to cause the least disturbance. It would be advisable for both yourself and the general population that you stay here at the Institute for the time being, we will then orchestrate a meeting where you can be exposed to the wider public.’

  ‘How do you feel about that?’ asked Doctor Markham.

  This time I let myself laugh. It was all so bonkers, it was either that or end up a screaming writhing heap of madness on the floor.

  ‘I don’t know how I feel about anything,’ I said. This seemed to meet with general approval from the women. ‘I don’t even know where I want to go back to. I feel really thirsty, is that any help?’

  Doctor Markham looked up, I laughed again as I turned and saw the big-armed lady standing in the doorway. She nodded and departed out of sight, I turned back to discover all the women had stood up. Without thinking I did the same,
they all froze, looking mildly alarmed.

  ‘Sorry, it’s okay,’ I said, palms forward in what I assume is the universal sign of non-aggression. ‘In 2011 it was seen as polite for a man to stand when a woman did,’ I tried to explain. I wasn’t even sure if this was true, but it made sense at the time.

  The woman with big arms came back into the room and handed me a small plastic grey pillow. It didn’t feel like plastic, more like velvet but it really was just a little pillow thing obviously containing liquid. I couldn’t see an opening.

  Nkoyo stepped forward, she had to be two meters tall, she bent down, took the grey pillow from me and pinched a corner then handed it back.

  ‘Drink,’ she said. I looked at the group of women staring at me, I put the pillow towards my lips and my mouth filled with some kind of delicious herby, fruity, room-temperature watery stuff. I just swallowed until the pillow was empty.

  ‘Better?’ asked Nkoyo.

  I nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  Nkoyo stepped back, then reached out her very long arms and held me gently by the shoulders and said, ‘Welcome to London.’

  4

  Big Steps

  I was ushered from the room by the big- armed lady. I followed her down the corridor and thankfully past the cell-like room I’d spent the afternoon in. I felt my mood lighten; at least I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life in there. At the far end of the corridor was a flight of stairs in a very spacious stairwell that for some reason reminded me of government buildings in Germany. I always re-member thinking that Germans had more space than we Brits and built things like stairwells much more generously than we did.

  The stairwell I entered was seriously generous, in fact the whole building was very light and airy. The woman with big arms led the way down the stairs. There really wasn’t anything I could do but follow. She was about my height, maybe a little taller, but there was something in her manner that made the prospect of a dash for freedom followed by a physical tussle very unattractive.

  I almost stumbled as I went down the first step, the tread was deeper than I expected; at a glance they just looked like stairs, but they had clearly been made with slightly taller people in mind. I found it quite difficult to judge and really had to watch myself. The big-armed lady said nothing, she didn’t react in any way to the fact that I stumbled down the first step so I didn’t try and make light of it.

  At the bottom of the stairs we entered another similar-looking corridor, I followed her into a large room with two long tables surrounded by many chairs. It was spotlessly clean and there was no one else in the room.

  The woman gestured to a line of small white doors at about chest height along the far wall. I walked up to them very unsure about what I was meant to do. There were no handles apparent but one of the doors gently folded itself away in a most uncanny manner revealing a nice bowl of what looked like noodles, next to it a tall metal-looking container and a pair of white chopsticks.

  I turned back toward the big-armed lady to ask her advice as to what I was supposed to do, but she was gone. They really did have a very different way of behaving in London than I’d experienced in Gardenia. Not exactly hostile, but no one I’d met up to that point seemed to be pleased to see me.

  I assumed it was okay for me to take the bowl and eat, which was just as well as I was fairly ravenous by this stage. I’d lost all track of time and obviously my phone, iPad and wallet were now in Gardenia with Grace and all the amazing people who, I was starting to slowly realise, I was going to miss more and more.

  I stopped myself thinking about it. I felt the need to damn up all thoughts about who I was, where I’d been, who I’d met and specifically who I’d maybe started to fall in love with. I could tell it wasn’t going to be easy.

  Thankfully, I had hunger on my side and I sat at the long table nearest me and started to tuck in. The noodles were hot and delicious, not really like the food I’d been eating in Gardenia. For a start I had no idea what was in among the noodles or where the ingredients had come from or who cooked it. It was all much more like the 2011 I had left so long ago.

  The metal container was full of water which I gulped down in one go and carried on slurping noodles. Without warning an enormous man walked into the room, I could hear him coming, his shoes made a noise when he walked which I found to be a huge relief. The man smiled at me, walked over and held out his hand.

  ‘Hi, I’m Pete,’ he said. ‘How are you doing matey?’

  I stood up, wiped my mouth on my sleeve and shook his hand. He was huge, his hand was huge, he was well over two meters tall.

  ‘Hi, I’m Gavin, nice to meet you.’

  ‘Nice to meet you too. Mind if I join you?’ asked Pete.

  ‘Help yourself,’ I said. Pete jerked his head back a little as if I’d challenged him. I shook my head furiously, suddenly seeing that what I said could be misunderstood, I should have learned this in Gardenia.

  ‘I’m sorry, my fault, please do join me, I’d like that very much.’

  ‘Good,’ said Pete, he pulled out a chair and sat down opposite me. He stared at me for a bit with a big grin on his even bigger face, then stood up again and walked over to the weird little doors, one opened immediately. He retrieved a large pizza type thing and a tubular metal container of some sort.

  ‘I’ve been clearing up the square, where you crashed your drone,’ he said, taking a huge bite out of the pizza, although I noticed it wasn’t really a pizza, not as I would have recognised it. It was a bread type thing with stuff on it, a kind of open sandwich.

  ‘My drone? Why do you call it that? It’s a plane.’

  ‘A plane? What’s a plane?’ asked the full-mouthed Pete.

  ‘The machine I crashed,’ I explained, ‘it’s not a drone, a drone is an unmanned machine, a person has to fly a plane, they’re very different.’

  ‘Oh right, sorry, Gavin,’ he said, smiling and revealing even more half chewed food, it wasn’t a pleasant sight.

  ‘Okay, so I’ve been clearing up your…plane.’

  ‘What, the Yuneec?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s it!’ he said as he chewed. He pointed at me. ‘I read that on the side. Yuneec, that’s funny, sounds like unique but it’s spelled in a nezvyklý sort of way. Amazing bit of kit though, how did you get it?’

  ‘Well, it’s mine. I bought it,’ I said, feeling like I’d been here before. I noted he used the word nezvyklý, I wondered what it might mean, sounded sort of Eastern European.

  Pete stopped mid-chew. ‘So, I can tell by your clothes you are not from London, but you sound like a Londoner.’ He stared at me, smiled and carried on eating.

  I admit I did glance around the room at this point, I didn’t want the big-armed lady to rush in and silence me with a strangle hold. I understood there was a lot of interest in me, this place was obviously very unlike Gardenia, it seemed to be a far more structured society although I couldn’t judge at that moment quite how structured, or how the structure might regulate my behaviour or communication.

  Suddenly there was a man talking to me who clearly knew about the crash and seemed fully informed about my arrival at the Institute.

  ‘I don’t want to cause any trouble,’ I said, ‘I’m not sure if I’m meant to be saying anything.’

  ‘Have you had a talk with the big girls? Did they tell you to olla hilja?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Olla hilja. You know,’ he put his finger to his lips, the instantly recognizable signal for silence.

  ‘Oh, well, I suppose so,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure I understood everything they were saying but they seem very concerned, they don’t want people to get upset.’

  ‘That’s funny,’ said Pete with a big grin. ‘They are so sweet aren’t they? They get so worried about everything. It’s fine, you flew around London i
n a drone. Okay, so you’re not meant to fly drones here, but you didn’t hurt anyone. It was very early in the morning, hardly anyone was about, well, Vajra saw you.’

  Pete took a big bite of the pizza thing and chewed. He swallowed and said, ‘Vajra was awake with his baby, he thought he was going mad. He is so funny, you’d love him and little Tommy is such a little mtoto. He said he saw you appear in the sky and bounce off the raspberry bushes and crash into the old Ash tree. I didn’t believe him until I arrived on the scene and the parky asked me to clear up the mess.’

  ‘I’m very sorry, I don’t even remember what happened,’ I said.

  ‘So you don’t remember Vajra? He was the one who found you, he told me all about it.’

  ‘Oh right,’ I said. ‘Is Vajra like a medical person, I remember two people got me out of the wreck, a man and a woman.’

  Pete took another huge bite and chewed for a bit. He was a big lively chap, he seemed very excited and full of energy but not in a dangerous way, there was no air of malice about him, he had huge gentle eyes bedecked with impressive dark eyebrows. His hair was slightly curly and a bit of a mess, but he took great care in his movements; he wasn’t like a big sporty bloke or some drunk thug in a pub looking for trouble, he was clearly very strong but had no need to prove it.

  He shook his big head, swallowed and tipped up the metal container which he consumed in one rather bullish session, burped and smiled.

  ‘Vajra just raised the alarm, the medics got you out and brought you here, were you tajuton?’

  ‘Sorry, tajuton?’

  Pete smiled and let his head roll onto his chest. ‘Totally tajuton.’

  ‘Oh, unconscious,’ I said with a grin.

  ‘Un conscious,’ said Pete carefully, ‘I like that.’

  I decided not to worry about the odd words Pete used, I’d got used to the fact that over 200 years language changes, particularly English which had such a long history of absorbing words from other tongues. However, these new words were confusing.