Graham remained silent for a moment then said, “I’ll speak to them and get back to you via that website where you Jumpers blog your experiences.”
He stood again and slowly limped to the door, then looking back at us added, “You’ve got all this to look forward to: arthritis, loss of muscle tone, hearing and sight loss, leathery skin that tears and bruises easily, brittle bones, fragile blood vessels…” Sniggering, and clearly enjoying taunting us, he added, “And Gemma, you’ll probably get coarse facial hair on your chin and around your mouth.”
Gemma didn’t respond but followed him to the doorway and watched him walk downstairs and out of the front door.
“He’s gone,” she said, looking rather unsettled. “That last comment was mean. He sounded quite sinister.”
__________
Anna arrived back at the guesthouse before me. I found her sitting on the side of the bed. She looked up at me and smiled but I could see she’d been crying.
I sat besides her saying, “I hate seeing you upset. Was it because of what was said last night?”
“No … well yes, but it’s more than that.” I put my arm around her and she leant against me. “I walked around town looking in the shop windows and at the Christmas decorations. A little girl, no more than about four years old, ran up to me saying Happy Christmas. Her mother smiled at me and took her by the hand, and they joined the queue of children waiting to see Santa. I could see the happiness and excitement on their faces … but this time next year they may all be dying.”
I asked, “Why do you think the virus is only about a year away?” This timescale was in fact correct, but there were less than a dozen people on the planet who were party to that information: Section Directorship, a few world leaders, C, my father, and, of course, me.
“I haven’t wanted to tell you Steve, but you talk in your sleep—not all the time—just for a few nights after each jump. The rebels don’t need to kidnap anyone to get information, they just need to bug your pillow.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about that?”
“Because Section would find a way of stopping you doing it and then I wouldn’t know what was going on,” she answered. “People who talk in their sleep usually mutter in disjointed sentences, but you’re very coherent. “You kept saying, ‘Stop Anna dying, she’s only twenty two’. Then a few days later you said, ‘She went to town to get the Christmas tree and caught the virus’.”
“Oh.”
“And it’s Christmas and I’m nearly twenty-one.”
“Well we’re both getting the vaccination the first week of January so you won’t die of any super-virus.”
“If it works.”
“It will,” I promised, trying to convince myself as well as Anna. I knew that by the following Christmas I and the other Jumpers would have been sent to live twenty thousand years into the future. I didn’t want Anna or anyone else to die of the virus, but if I couldn’t have a future with her I would much prefer to live with an advanced populace than survive on an empty planet, albeit, ‘A new Eden’ as C had referred to it.
Despite this being our last Christmas together, we remained positive, trying to put our worries to the back of our minds and enjoying the time we had left together.
It was a long journey home so we took turns driving, taking care on the icy roads, and called at the smallholding so Anna could see her father and brother before we officially moved into the cottage.
Because of the events of the last two days the memories of shooting David’s older self were once again at the forefront of my mind. I recalled how I’d felt the first time I’d seen young David after David Senior’s death; to say I was very uncomfortable was an understatement. As time passed I’d learnt to compartmentalise the situation, seeing David as two separate people: the young man a couple of years older than me, and the much older grandfather figure I loved and respected. This was my way of coping with the guilt that comes with taking another person’s life.
However, today, as Anna stood besides me in George’s living room, in full knowledge of the situation, those uncomfortable feelings resurfaced. When David walked into the room she practically threw herself at him, giving him the biggest hug of his life.
“Whoa, little sis,” he said, smiling, “what’s this all about?” I waited anxiously for what seemed an age, dreading her mentioning anything about the future.
“It’s nothing,” she replied, gently letting him go. “I’ve just missed you, that’s all,” she gave her father a similar hug.
George said, “I had Tom and Conner, the farmhands, pack your belongings and drop them off at the cottage.”
“Thank you,” said Anna, “I thought they were only helping out in the summer.”
“No,” said David, “that was the initial plan, but they love the area and both get on well with Dad and me.” David glanced at his father, suddenly looking excited as some good news came to remembrance, then looked back to us before continuing, “And we need them now. We’ve bought that arable land behind the cottage so we could do with the extra help. This is technically no longer a smallholding; it’s a small farm. We have sixty two acres with plans to buy another twenty six in a couple of months.”
“And they both have girlfriends in the town,” added George. “They live in the old barn now it’s been modernised. Of course I saved a fortune by getting them to do most of the work.” I smiled; George always knew a good investment opportunity when he saw it.
We rested, had a hot drink and bite to eat—chunky ham sandwiches followed by several biscuits—and then said our goodbyes before driving the mile and a half up the lane to the cottage. It felt good to be in our own home and if I hadn’t known this would all change so soon I would have been really happy.
The next morning we borrowed David’s pick-up truck and brought back two Christmas trees from a neighbouring farm. The farmer, Mark Benson, was a stocky man in his mid forties who had been a good friend to George since he moved to the area after Anna’s Mum disappeared. I had trouble understanding his strong Glaswegian accent him, but Anna was used to the local accents and had no problem.
George had confided in me just before the wedding, explaining that his wife had run off with another man, abandoning their two small children.
“Her name was Melody Zena Roberts,” he said. “She was a traveller, a very clean and respectable girl … well until she ran off with that foreigner. Her caravan was always immaculate. She’d travelled all around the country and on the continent most of her life. Travelling was in her blood and she couldn’t stay in one place for too long. Of course we lived in a house, but she always kept the caravan … and she cleaned it every week.
“I asked her why she kept it once. ‘Just to keep you on your toes,’ she answered, laughing. If you ever treat me bad I’ll move back in it’.
“We had David and Anna within the first four years of our marriage. Mel, as I called her, seemed happy at first, but after Anna was born I could see her getting restless. This Italian guy came along a couple of years later promising to take her to far-off lands and she went with him, leaving the children with me. I came home to a note on the dining room table. It said, ‘Sorry, travellin’s in my blood. I told you I couldn’t stay still for long. Please look after David and Anna; they’re better off with you. Tell them I love them’.
“None of us ever saw her again. I thought you should know.” He paused, his voice cracking with emotion, adding, “I’ll never speak of her again,” then he turned and walked away into the kitchen leaving me with information he hadn’t even told his daughter.
Mark secured the Christmas trees in the back of the pick-up with a rope and a few clever knots, then winked at Anna and said to me, “Nolliag Chridheil agus bliaghna mhath ur,” before walking back towards the farmhouse.
“What the heck did he say?” I asked Anna.
She laughed and said, “He was wishing us a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year in Scottish Gaelic.”
We drove back to the
farmhouse and dragged the largest tree into George’s hallway.
An hour and a half later, George, David, Tom, Connor, Anna and myself stood in the large living room sipping drinking hot drinks and admiring a fully trimmed tree. As expected, all the tinsel, baubles and glitter matched the lemon and silver theme. I loved this house; it was still as immaculately clean, tidy and as tastefully furnished as the first time I’d seen it.
We took the remaining tree to the cottage and decorated it with the new trimmings we’d bought in Port Glasgow earlier that morning. The December sun was already low in the sky and it was snowing again, but a blazing log fire radiated out from the large Inglenook fireplace making the living room cosy and warm. Anna and I sat on the floor on a white sheepskin rug leaning against the sofa and each other, admiring our handiwork.
“Anna, I promised I’d always be truthful with you, so there are some things I need say.” She looked at me anxiously. “It’s nothing to worry about … and nothing either of us has done. It’s about your mother.”
She cut in, “What? How can you possibly know anything about my mother? Dad won’t even speak about her.”
I relayed all that George had told me. Anna remained silent for a moment, her eyes welling up with tears.
“I don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me,” she said indignantly.
“Maybe he thought it would be easier talking to me because we’re not as close as you two. Your Dad’s a very private man isn’t he?” Anna nodded.
“So Mum abandoned me and David, and Dad thought it too hurtful to let me know until now,” she said.
“I’m sorry Sweetie.”
__________
The next few days passed uneventfully. We lazed around, got some last minute Christmas shopping from town, and ate Christmas dinner with George and David at the smallholding. In my mind I always thought of it as the smallholding, even though the title was no longer technically correct. George cooked the dinner, as was his tradition, then we all retired to the living room to open our presents and sing Carols, accompanied by Anna on the grand piano.
“I told you he could sing didn’t I,” she said to her Dad and brother proudly.
My Father came to stay with us over the New Year accompanied by a rather lean, pale Charlie.
“That was quite a drive,” Dad said when they arrived.
Charlie added, “It’s a pity you can’t beam us up here like they do on TV.” I gave Dad a questioning look, wondering if my brother knew anything about the vortex technology.
Dad shook his head and smiled. “Until that becomes a reality I’m afraid we’ll have to depend on the car.”
I showed them both to their room where I’d added a couple of camp beds.
“Sorry it’s a bit small and basic.” I said.
“Anything looks good to me, bro—after sleeping rough, stoned out of my mind. Not that I remember much about it,” Charlie replied.
“How long have you been clean?” I asked him.
“I haven’t taken anything for weeks.”
“You’re doing great,” I said, giving him a brotherly punch to the top of his left arm. He playfully grabbed me from behind, held me in a headlock and ruffled my hair with his knuckles.”
“Remember squirt, I can still take you anytime,” he grinned.
Chapter 20
The next day Dad and I were summoned to Section Headquarters. I explained the situation to Anna, who, to help find a way for Dad and I to go out without arousing suspicion, asked Charlie if he would like to go into Port Glasgow with her and David. There were hoping to catch the New Year Sales.
Charlie looked at me questioningly so I said, “It’s ok with me, you go ahead, I want to nip into the office for a couple of hours anyway, and Dad thought he might come too.”
“You two are so boring. It’s New Year and you want to ‘nip in the office’. I thought everyone up here spends the week getting drunk.”
Half an hour later I kissed Anna goodbye and waved her, Charlie and David off in the new pickup truck.
“What’s all this about Dad?” I asked when we were finally alone.
“You have a jump scheduled for this afternoon, and there’s been a problem with the vaccination programme. First signs are that not many people are planning on coming forward to have their shots. Lots of people had bad reactions to last years ‘flu jabs’ and some are saying it’s too late in the ‘flu season’ to bother.”
“Can’t we impress the seriousness of the situation on everyone?”
“Not without causing panic.”
“I think it might be worth the risk.”
Dad’s pager bleeped. He took it out of his pocket and checked it. “The vortex will be opening in a few moments,” he said, “grab a few summer clothes.” Always ready for any eventuality, I had summer and winter clothes bags already packed for convenience. I grabbed the summer bag.
On cue, the sparkling reflective lights of the vortex appeared giving us access to Section’s vortex room. We stepped inside. The white, sterile walls were a striking contrast to our seasonally decorated cottage. C stood waiting for us by the vortex Controls.
“Happy New Year Commander,” I said. “Couldn’t Section have stretched to a bit of tinsel and a Christmas tree?”
Clearly I’d misjudged C’s mood.
He answered, “Let’s keep it professional and not get too familiar.” I chose to keep quiet, feeling slightly embarrassed and duly reprimanded. He added, “Steve wait here, the primary Jumpers will be joining you very soon. John, follow me.” Dad and C left. Within a few minutes nearly all the Primary Jumpers had gathered in the vortex room.
Vanessa walked in and briefed us. I’d always been impressed with her efficient and professional manner, and today was no exception.
“You will be jumping to various locations around four hundred and ninety years into the future through a multifaceted vortex.” She said. “There will be no rebel Jumpers on this jump so it should be uneventful. Section has decided that all those wanting to rejoin the programme will jump separately. Nevertheless, you must still take a firearm and extra ammo with you in case of wild animal attack. Explore the areas where you are being sent and keep safe. A vortex will be sent for your return in an hour, your time. Any questions?”
Alison, the lady who had helped Gemma and I find out if Gabor could be trusted to rejoin the programme, spoke up, “Are we working individually or will we be with partners again?”
“That was my next point. Section has decided it’s much safer to work with partners from now on. Keep to the same ones as previously.”
I’d been wondering where Gemma was so I asked, “Where’s my partner? Is she on special assignment or something?”
“Something. She’s gone on ahead. No need to partner anyone else, you’ll find her when you arrive.”
Several vortexes started opening simultaneously, their combined light making the room uncomfortably bright. One by one the Primary Jumpers all stepped into the future, that is, except for me. My vortex dimmed and disappeared.
“What happened there?” I asked Vanessa, who was still operating the vortex interface from behind the screen.
“I just needed to slow things down a little,” she replied, moving from behind the vortex controls and walking over towards me. The system needs to reboot, but it’s on auto so your vortex will open in a few minutes.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“It’s not a problem,” she replied, walking behind me and lightly placing her hands on my shoulders. She brushed an imaginary speck of dust off my T-shirt and stepped around in front of me, smiling, her fingertips back on my shoulders.
“Don’t say you haven’t felt it too.”
Oh no, I thought. Vanessa was beautiful. She was young, slim, had lovely long, chestnut hair and a pretty face, with large brown eyes and a slim nose. Any man would want her, including me if I wasn’t so completely in love with Anna.
“I’m sorry Vanessa, you know I’m married.”
“That’s never stopped me before; I’m only proposing a little fun.” She touched my face with her right hand, and stroked my cheek seductively. “You don’t want to become an old, boring, married person.” As she spoke the vortex began opening. I could see Gemma sitting on some rocks with the sea behind her. Dressed for hot summer weather, she was wearing a lemon T-shirt and cut off jeans.
I brought up my left hand and took Vanessa’s hand from my face, “I love Anna and would never be unfaithful to her. If I were single things might me different.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
Gemma stood up and walked over to the vortex, which was now acting as a window to another time.
Still looking at Vanessa I said, “The vortex is open, I’ve got to go.”
“Of course,” she said, instantly returning to her usual professional manner and walking back to the controls. “Don’t worry Steve, we can continue our little chat another time.”
I hoped not. I stepped through the vortex and into a beautiful, hot, breezy day. Summer had always been my favourite time of year. The sky was blue with just a few wispy of clouds on the horizon.
“What was going on back there?” asked Gemma. I told her. Gemma laughed, “Vanessa’s a pretty girl but a bit desperate if you ask me.”
“Oh thanks, I thought it was my irresistible charm.” I faked offence and Gemma gave me a playful thump to my shoulder. I rubbed it pretending that it hurt. “Any idea where we are … and why did you get here before me?”
“I’ve only been here about an hour; I’ve been taking seawater samples for lab analysis. Like our photos, in a couple of hours the samples might either disappear or change through temporal adjustment, so the lab will have to work on them and record the data quickly. They wanted to test out the Frumscyld-Ábitan virus levels in the sea and various sea life and plants. I’ve already done some basic analysis and checked a few anemones and crabs in the rock pools over there just in case time travel affects the samples. The lab analysis should echo my own findings, but will be much more detailed.
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