The Sol 3 Agenda

Home > Other > The Sol 3 Agenda > Page 21
The Sol 3 Agenda Page 21

by Brian Kitchen


  “That is up on the first floor, sir. Stairs or escalator up to it are on the right, or if you prefer, there’s a lift over there on the left.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  “The stairs I reckon,” Padraig said, heading for them, John by his side.

  “This is far bigger than the old Marks and Spencer in Trentbury. In fact, the town’s changed beyond all recognition,” John remarked looking all around him.

  “Come on, we’ve clothes to buy,” Padraig urged him. “We don’t want Kate and Morann finishing their shopping before us. We’d never hear the end of it.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  John and Padraig soon finished their shopping, having also visited Debenhams and Burtons and several other shops, with names that were unfamiliar to John. He’d been delighted to find out however, that Levis now had an official shop of their own where he was able to stock up with three pairs of jeans. Laden with carrier bags they made their way back to where they had arranged to meet Kate and Morann, but they weren’t there. John took the mobile phone, another novelty he’d also been given and rang Kate’s number. After a moment or two she answered.

  “Where are you?” John asked.

  “In Next, trying some clothes on.”

  “Well, we’ve done our shopping.”

  “Sorry, we haven’t, we’ll be another half hour or more yet,” Kate told him. “Tell you what, I’ll ring you when we’ve done.”

  “All right.” John finished the call and turned to Padraig. “They’ll be another half hour or more.”

  “That’s women for you and it’ll probably be more like an hour. I don’t know about you, but I could murder a pint and now that I’m not driving, I can do so. So, John, do you know any good pubs around here?”

  “Well, we’ll have to leave the shopping centre and head for the Market Square, where there used to be a very good one,” John answered. “Come on, that signpost over there is pointing the way out to Market Street.”

  John and Padraig left the shopping centre by the doors out into Market Street and headed for the pub that John knew. Market Street had been pedestrianised John noticed and a lot of the small independent shops that he remembered being on it, had gone to be replaced by bookies, charity shops and mobile phone shops. John was quite taken with the mobile phone, although the one that he’d been issued with wasn’t a model that was on sale to the public. Not only was it secure and unhackable, but it also used the satellite system that VarTech Corporation had orbiting the planet.

  John was pleased to see that there was still a lively market in the Market Square, and he was even more pleased when he saw that The Market Hotel was also still open.

  “It’s apparently a Wetherspoons’ pub now,” John remarked, seeing the sign outside it.

  Walking in John saw that the pub had changed beyond recognition. Where there had once been three separate rooms, a bar, lounge bar and smoke room, there was now one large open plan bar which had been extended out at the back. John and Padraig walked up to the bar counter.

  “Two pints of bitter, please,” John ordered, having glanced at Padraig to confirm that that was ok. Padraig nodded.

  “What kind would you like, sir?” the bar man asked.

  “You’ve got more than one beer?” John asked in surprise. When he’d last visited the Market Hotel it had only served one, that of the main brewer in the town. The bar man reeled off the names of all the different beers on offer and John and Terry eventually settled on a pint of Bass each, John having recommended it.

  “Shall we sit down, there’s a table vacant over there,” Padraig said, pointing to one at the side of the room. They made their way over to it and sat down. It was in a good position, in a quiet part of the room where they could see most of what was going on around them. John took a sip of his beer and found it to be excellent, just as he’d remembered.

  A noisy party of young men were now entering the pub and John saw that they were wearing football shirts in Trentbury Rovers colours. The shirts had vastly changed John noticed since he’d last seen his local team play. They were no longer the black and amber stripes that he’d been familiar with, but had been replaced with amber shirts with black sleeves.

  He looked closely at the young men to see whether he recognized anyone. John had been an ardent supporter of the Rovers and hadn’t missed a game, home or away, in the two years before he’d left Earth. The crowd had not been very large in those days, 500 at the most and he’d known most of the younger supporters. Then he suddenly realised that these supporters were all in their late teens, or early twenties and would have been born long after he’d left Earth for the Sol 6 base. John shook his head sadly; he wouldn’t know any of them.

  “You look thoughtful John, something up?”

  “I was just thinking Padraig, that I used to be one of them once,” he replied nodding towards the young men. “Me and my mates used to come in here every Saturday, when Trentbury Rovers were at home.”

  “You were a Trentbury Rovers fan then?”

  “Yes, my dad used to take me to the matches when I was a kid and then when I was older, I used to go with my mates. Were you a football fan?” Padraig shook his head.

  “I went to see Cambridge United once, but I can’t say that I really enjoyed the match.”

  “They used to play Trentbury when we were a non-league club and in the Southern League. Now Trentbury Rovers are apparently in League 1 of the Football League and could well be in the Championship next season.”

  “Will you start supporting them again, John?” Padraig asked, but noticed that John was looking intently over to a quiet corner of the pub where three men in their fifties were sat. They were all wearing black and amber football scarves. “Do you know them, John?”

  “I might do,” John answered, and Padraig saw that John had gone quite pale. “I think they might be my three best mates.”

  Chapter 19

  Washington DC, USA, Late August 2005

  It had been a colder and wetter August in Washington DC that year and the trees were already beginning to show signs that Autumn was on the way. Joshua had been expecting the Nemhain to storm the White House and demand to see the President, but it seemed that Fionnuala really was going to employ stealth and cunning after all. First Fionnuala had wanted to see where Mona McBeolain resided and so like any other tourist they had paraded up and down Pennsylvania Avenue, gawking at The White House, one of Washington’s premier tourist attractions.

  “Reconnaissance is very important in any mission, Joshua. Know your enemy, their vulnerabilities and the terrain that you will be campaigning on,” Fionnuala had told him.

  Joshua still wasn’t sure why he had stayed with Fionnuala and not escaped from her by now. He was pretty sure that as soon as they had teleported into downtown Washington, he could have got away from her, if he’d wanted to. So, what was keeping him close by her side? Sure, the sex with her was great, but there was something more. For all her outward show of supreme confidence and her undoubted leadership qualities, he sensed a vulnerability he wouldn’t have expected to find. So, for the time being he guessed, he’d see how things developed. Besides which, he was having an adventure and Joshua Freeman had never had an adventure before.

  The Nemhain would have attracted far more attention than she already was, but fortunately however, Fionnuala had opted to wear clothes more appropriate to the occasion, rather than the dress uniform of the Nemhain of the former Aos Si Empire, that he’d only seen her wear before. There was a machine at the Nemhain’s base that could replicate any kind of material object and after researching the fashions appropriate to the time, Fionnuala had selected an outfit. She had chosen tight fitting jeans and an even tighter sweater, over a silk blouse and ankle boots, over which she wore a zipped, waterproof jacket. Even so, her 6ft 2ins height made her stand out from the crowd and being a beautiful blonde with a shapely figure, she got more than her fair share of admiring glances.

 
; Joshua noticed that Fionnuala had a small tablet shaped device in her hand, which she was studying intently.

  “I was hoping to locate whereabouts Mona McBeolain was in that building,” Fionnuala nodded in the direction of the White House, “and then teleport in, but she has a defence screen and a very powerful one, protecting it. What did you say the building was called?” Fionnuala asked, putting the device away in a pocket of her jacket.

  “The White House, Fionnuala. It’s the official residence of the President of the United States of America,” Joshua told her.

  “I see, well that’s very original, calling an obviously white building, The White House, though it’s like no house that I’ve ever seen before,” was Fionnuala’s sarcastic reply.

  “What will you do now then?” Joshua enquired.

  “I will have to rethink my strategy,” Fionnuala replied.

  Just then Joshua noticed a small convoy of vehicles coming down the street. In the front was a black SUV, with grim faced men wearing dark glasses sitting in them. Behind them came a large stretch limo and then finally, another almost identical black SUV, with the same type of grim faced men in it. Joshua guessed that they must be a security detail, which meant that the limo’s passenger, a man sitting on the back seat, was someone important. It wasn’t anyone however that Joshua recognized.

  Fionnuala had also spotted the convoy and as it drew nearer, something made her look towards it. Seeing the figure of a seated man in it, Fionnuala looked to see who it was. The man, turned his head and for a moment the Nemhain’s and the man’s eyes met. Then the man turned quickly away again as the convoy drove on into The White House grounds, the gates quickly closing behind it.

  “Some instinct made me look at that vehicle, Joshua,” Fionnuala told him, “and I feel that I should know that man in it, but I cannot place him. I need alcohol, I think. Joshua take me to an establishment which serves it.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Trentbury, England, Late August 2005

  Kate and Morann had nearly finished their shopping, having visited probably every women’s fashion shop in the shopping centre. Kate had been glad of Morann’s company and advice on some of the clothes that she tried on and now that she’d got to know her better, really liked her. They had now finished shopping, so Kate took her mobile out of her pocket and pressed the pre-set number for John .For a moment or two it rang out before he answered it.

  “Where are you?” Kate enquired.

  “We’re in the ‘Market Hotel’ in the Market Square having a pint. Care to join us?” John told her, but Kate noticed that his voice didn’t have his normal bounce in it.

  “Are you ok, John, you sound a bit down,” Kate asked.

  “Yes, I’m ok, Kate. Just had a bit of a shock, tell you about it when you get here.” The call ended, and Kate turned to Morann.

  “John sounded a bit down and said he’d had a shock. They’re in a pub, apparently. The ‘Market Hotel’ on the Market Square.”

  “I believe that John and his friends used to frequent that particular pub, when John lived in Trentbury,” Morann replied.

  “How do you know all these things, Morann?” Kate asked, noticing an enigmatic look appear on Morann’s face.

  “We had to mind scan John when he first made contact with us and that was a piece of information that was revealed to us.”

  “Surely that’s an invasion of his privacy, Morann!”

  “It is Kate, but it was necessary to do the mind scan at the time.”

  “Have you mind scanned me too?” Kate asked accusingly.

  “No, Kate, it was not necessary to do so in your case, as Catherine Penrose recognized you and had confirmed who you were. John contacted us accidently and we had to make sure he was who he said he was.”

  “Does John know he was mind scanned?”

  “Yes, Kate, John was told, and we apologized to him for the gross invasion of his privacy. Fortunately, John understood why it had to be done and forgave us.”

  “Well that’s something I suppose.”

  “Shall we go and join them in the ‘Market Hotel’ now then Kate?”

  “Yes, Morann, I think that I could do with a drink.”

  Kate and Morann made their way through the shopping centre, which being a Saturday was very busy, but soon found the way out into Market Street.

  “I believe that must be the Market Square over there,” Morann said pointing to where there were a lot of stalls over on the other side of the road. They walked across and into the square which stretched back towards the river and had a large church at one end of it. They soon found the Market Hotel and went in. There were a lot of football fans in it and Kate and Morann drew a lot of admiring glances from them. A few comments too, some of which Kate found rather sexist, but at least they weren’t as bad as some she’d had back in the 1980’s. Things had seemingly improved a little in that quarter.

  “They’re over there, Kate,” Morann said pointing to where John and Padraig were sitting.

  “I’ll get you both a drink,” Padraig said leaping out of his seat, when they arrived at the table. “Same again for you John?” he asked. Kate saw that they both had empty pint glasses in front of them.

  “What’s that you’re drinking?” she asked.

  “Bass,” John answered, “and it’s rather good.”

  “I’ll have a pint of that too then, please,” Kate told Padraig.

  “I’ll help you carry the drinks,” Morann said and followed Padraig to the bar counter, whilst Kate sat down beside John.

  “So, what has shocked you then, John?” Kate asked, turning her head to face him and seeing a lot of emotions on his face.

  “I think it’s just struck me how time travel has changed my life,” John answered after a slight pause. “You see the three men over there in the corner but try not to make it too obvious that you’re looking at them.” Kate turned her head slightly to look and saw three men in their fifties, all wearing football scarves.

  “Yes,” Kate said. “What about them?”

  “I think that they’re my three best friends,” John answered.

  “But John, they’re all in their fifties,” Kate said and was then about to add that they were much older than him. Then she realised that if John hadn’t travelled through time, he’d be the same age as them.

  “Yes, in their fifties, like I am chronologically, Kate and yet I look nothing like their age,” John finished for her. “They were my three best friends and yet there’s no way now that I can go over to them and say hello.” Kate sat stunned for a moment or two, as the realisation hit her too, that her friends would also have aged twenty years.

  “I see what you mean,” Kate said. “My best friend Maggie Jones will be 44 years old, the same age as I am chronologically and, yet I still look in my twenties. I don’t even know what she’s doing these days, or even if she’s still alive.”

  “Then you need to find out. We’ll ask Morann how you can go about that.”

  “Talking of Morann, she told me how she had to mind scan you.”

  “Oh yes, Morann knows all my dark secrets, don’t you Morann?” John said, more his usual self, as she and Padraig arrived back at their table with the drinks.

  “You have no dark secrets, John Trevaskis,” Morann replied placing a pint in front of Kate and kept a long tall glass of something fizzy with ice and a slice of lemon in it for herself.

  “What’s that you’re drinking, Morann?” John asked.

  “Gin and tonic,” Morann answered.

  “You’re posh,” Kate told her.

  “I acquired a taste for it back in the 1940’s,” Morann replied. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you sometime Kate,” Morann said having seen Kate’s look of curiosity.

  “How does Kate find out if her friend Maggie Jones is still alive, Morann?” John then asked her.

  “You would need to search the United British and Irish Federation National Database and you can do that Kate from a secure terminal
in the communications room, back at Abbot’s House,” Morann answered.

  “Thank you Morann, I’ll do that when we get back.” Kate told her. Kate then had the strange feeling that someone was watching them closely. Turning her head slightly to one side, she saw that it was a rather scruffy man, who was wearing an old anorak and was leaning up against the end of the bar counter. The man was broad shouldered, about average height and unshaven and his longish black hair looked unwashed, to Kate’s critical eye. “There’s someone watching us,” Kate told the others in a whisper.

  “Whereabouts?” Padraig, instantly alert questioned.

  “He’s leaning up against the end of the bar counter,” Kate replied.

  “Well, whoever he was, he’s gone now.” Padraig told her.

  Looking back over to the bar counter, Kate saw that two young women in football shirts were now standing where she’d seen the man before.

  “What did he look like?” John asked. Kate quickly described the man. “How old was he?” was John’s next question.

  “Hard to say,” Kate answered. “He could have been any age from late forties to early sixties.”

  “An old friend of yours, perhaps John?” Padraig suggested.

  “Possibly, but from Kate’s description, it could also have been my father.” John answered a shocked look on his face.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Washington DC, USA, Late August 2005

  Fionnuala and Joshua had walked some distance away from the White House before they found a bar that the Nemhain thought suitable. It was situated in a luxury hotel and Joshua knew that it was reputed to have a bar which had been the favourite of past Presidents of the USA. He was sure that Fionnuala would feel right at home there. Walking into the hotel they soon found the bar and Fionnuala walked straight up to the bar counter, Joshua close behind her.

  “What would you like to drink?” Joshua asked her.

  Fionnuala looked down the bar counter and saw an elderly man sipping a glass of what appeared to Joshua to be whisky.

  “I’ll have what he’s having,” she instructed the barman.

 

‹ Prev