‘It’s not your job.’
‘But whose job is it? When are we going to call the police?’
‘I don’t know.’
Later: ‘Is this the address book?’
‘Yes.’
Janet was looking through it. ‘Can I have it?’
‘Of course.’ Marcus wondered whether he should have given it to her in the first place. Why had he been searching for Pen? But how could he not?
Here, in the form of the address book, was something like a catalogue of Pen’s past. Did Janet wonder why it all, all that past, had fallen away? Should she tell Marcus more? But she thought he must know. There was, for Janet at that time, still too much that couldn’t quite be said. The idea of living together and helping one another, it was very good—Janet could see that—but there were still things unsaid. They would not be transparent to one another, not yet.
And as for Marcus, he wondered why Janet didn’t know where Pen had gone, the times he went away. He wondered why she hadn’t asked him, and why he hadn’t told her.
‘How did the security establishment see the broader situation?’
‘Broadly speaking, they knew there was a lot of TCF activity in the country that they were unaware of. It was discussed a lot within the counterculture, and some also had suspicions that the Soviet Embassy in Wellington might have the capacity for TCL and TCF. […] Of course, they were initially concerned about the release of imagery damaging to the interests of the nation—damaging to our freedom and way of life. As we had seen from the Soviet release of TCL photographs in the late 1960s, it was possible to employ those images in an ATTACK ON THE FUTURE, an attack on hope. The Soviets in Wellington kept any TCF and TCL capacities very well hidden, despite the best efforts of the SIS. They were monitored as closely as possible, for these and other reasons, but it was not possible to establish that they were actively engaged in future-related subversion. […] Similarly, most of the hippies could not really be seen as a threat. Their involvement was “recreational”, and more a matter for routine police work, which responded largely to concern and tip-offs from the public. Later, there was a concerted effort, given the rising incidence of offences and after the UN Convention on Future Technologies was ratified in 1972, to crack down on TCF travelling in particular—it focused on lysergamide supply and kit in general. TCL imaging remained legal, but the technical difficulties of producing clear images put it beyond the reach of most “amateurs”.
‘The police had officers assigned to routinely visit various sites—just to keep an eye on things. They had not initially been aware of a local chapter of the Fedorovians, and knew next to nothing about overseas groups. Then, the officers began to bring back locally printed pamphlets containing material sourced from Belgrade—writings by Fedorov and Bogdanov as well as contemporary writing by Gavrilović. The local contact remained anonymous, but there was locally written material too.’
‘Did the effect of the nation’s renewed isolation on the world stage make them worry that it might be more easily subverted?’
‘Yes, some of them. We were a relatively minor part of the global agricultural economy, with relatively undefended institutions. Having said that, in retrospect the Fedorovians never represented a large-scale threat. They were, however, clearly heavily involved in TCF activity and had a strong ideology opposed to capitalism. Because of this, the establishment took the attitude that it needed to take them seriously. No one in the police or the SIS actually understood a word of the pamphlets. This made them even more concerned.’
‘Was part of their concern also that their use of the technology—their misuse of it—might be accidentally dangerous?’
‘The security establishment also don’t understand the technology particularly well. It was good to be suspicious of what they didn’t understand.’
‘They were advocating, as far as we are aware, pushing TCF technology further, doing things with it that have never been done before. Who knew what they might accidentally do? I don’t think you can just mess around with time.’
‘Their word for “time” was “history”. They talked about Historical Contour Forcing, for example: HCF. It meant the same thing as TCF, as far as we could tell.’
‘Let’s just say that the future that they imagined was very different from the future that the security agents had in mind.’
The address book: thin paper with inset alphabet along the outside edge; a cover made of thicker card with flaps folded back inside. Around half the numbers listed were still current; some also had addresses. Janet looked at it more closely than Marcus had—why? She looked at each name and tried to remember the corresponding face. She put a small mark next to those for which she couldn’t. In a sense, was she hoping to mentally reconstitute the past?
Yes, but it also involved finding out the limits of the task itself—finding the names that had no place in the past she knew. There were six in total. She called them straight away. Lilly was with Peter and Sarah, outside. In three cases the numbers no longer existed. There was an answer at one of the others: a woman who claimed not to know the person Janet asked for. Janet listened carefully to the woman’s tone of voice. What could she tell from it? Well, nothing. All in all, the method had revealed nothing, especially in the case of the disconnected numbers. She could try the other two numbers again later. She was, it has to be said, disheartened—she had felt a slight flutter, thinking (without thinking it) that the application of a method, in itself, might bring results. When it came down to it she could be methodical. She thumbed the book itself again. Was it possible for something to ‘rub off’?
She discovered something new when she opened the flap on the front cover. It was a single number, its digits written in fine faded pencil vertically along the crease of the flap. She had known (had she?) that there would be a secret, but had not known what physical form it might take. It might in fact have had no discoverable form. This, then, was luck. She dialled.
‘Yes?’
That was a very particular way to answer the phone. Janet had no name to ask after. Here her method faltered. She thought it was a man’s voice. She said, ‘Hello.’
‘Who is this?’
‘Who are you?’
‘Ah. I guess we have a situation. You don’t know who you’re calling?’
‘No.’
‘Then it’s probably not a wrong number.’
‘I think I dialled correctly.’
‘Yes I’m guessing you did.’
Janet said, ‘OK, who’s going to start then?’
‘Start?’
‘Names.’
‘Oh. Right. Names aren’t always that reliable though. I could give you something to call me, but it might not be the same thing other people call me.’
‘Why don’t we just agree to say our names?’
‘And you could do the same thing.’
‘Look, my kid’s outside and I’m not sure when he’s going to need me.’
‘All right.’
‘So let’s just say our names? Or, actually, there’s another name I could throw at you.’
‘Good idea.’
‘Penwyn Evans.’
‘Ah. That’s not you, though.’ Janet listened again for a kind of tone in his (?) voice. ‘Are you Janet? Let me see, Janet Evans née, um, Billing.’ Now she paused for other reasons. ‘Not many people use this number.’
‘Please tell me your name. This is scaring me.’
‘Okay. Call me Grey.’
‘Is it your name?’
‘Yes. It is. It really is. I’m sorry to be cagey.’
‘I’m looking for him.’
‘Why? Has something happened?’
‘He’s missing. Do you know where he is?’
‘He’s missing?’
‘Are you police?’
‘No. I think we should meet.’
‘Okay.’
‘You could bring Peter along.’
‘Peter? No way.’
‘I just
thought it might be easier… ’
‘When?’
‘I could buy you lunch?’
‘You’ve got to be joking.’
‘No. Not lunch. No lunch, and don’t bring Peter. I could meet today, at lunchtime because I have a break then, but no lunch.’
‘Fine.’
She left the children with Lilly and went to the inner-city park where they had agreed to meet. She had no idea what the man looked like. She suspected she would recognise him nonetheless. There were a few people seated on benches and on the grass. She approached a man. He looked at her, looked away, and then looked back. He stood then sat down. Sure enough, he was dressed in a suit. He stood again and smoothed the thighs of his trousers with his hands. Why did he do that? Why standing, sitting, standing, looking at her and away? She wondered what was wrong with him. He sat down again. She sat next to him.
‘Are you sure you’re not hungry? It is lunchtime.’
‘No. Who are you?’
‘Oh. My name’s Grey. But I told you that already.’
‘Are you SIS?’
‘Yes.’
‘Shit. Really?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘I don’t know if I want to be here.’
‘Me neither.’
She laughed. ‘You didn’t seem like a TCF pusher. You had to be something like police or SIS. But I don’t get it.’
‘You have my number from Penwyn?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I see.’
‘I knew he was up to something, but… ’
‘Would you mind if I have lunch?’
‘Why SIS? Why did he have your number?’
‘You know, I’m not sure your husband ever quite knew that I was with the SIS. I’m sure he did. But he never asked. I’m sure I never told him. I didn’t want to tell him. He probably didn’t want to know.’
‘What do you have to do with him? Do you know where he is?’
‘I don’t, I’m sorry. I really am sorry.’
‘What did he have to do with you?’
‘Well, you know. I think I can tell you, because I think there’s no real risk anymore. I think it’s all right.’
‘A risk to Pen? Or is he risky?’
‘Pen would love to be risky.’
‘Yeah. Ha! Yes.’
‘No. He wasn’t the risk we were interested in.’
‘Was he working for you or something? I can’t believe that.’
‘Sometimes we have a way of working with people and not working with them. Especially people like Penwyn, who aren’t very comfortable with membership of a group. They switch commitments easily. Inconsistency is useful to us. I can tell you that because I don’t think you represent any danger to the security of the state.’
‘I’m starting to think the state is a danger to my security. What were you up to with him?’
‘I can probably tell you, but I must say his disappearance is worrying. If there’s something we don’t know about.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, nothing. I shouldn’t really be meeting you here but I think it’s all right.’
‘It was your idea.’
‘I’ve said a lot already.’
‘You have?’
‘But I decided to meet you because I felt bad. I still feel bad. I’m very busy though and Penwyn isn’t really one of our assets anymore. I mean he’s not something I have time to think about, outside my lunch hour.’
‘You know, Pen would definitely have picked you for SIS or something. You wouldn’t have fooled him. Assets?’
‘I’m trying to say I want to help.’
‘Really? Well, fuck it. Get me lunch. Make it expensive.’
‘But I’m not sure I can help. Oh, lunch, yes. Good. I am really quite hungry.’
‘And, actually, let me choose the place. I don’t want any bugs in the walls or anything.’
‘We don’t listen to restaurants. Well, not many.’
They walked to a nearby restaurant. Grey said, ‘I feel bad because I made Penwyn do something I wouldn’t do myself.’
‘What?’
‘Travel in time.’
‘TCF? God, I knew he’s been doing that. Is that all?’
‘I don’t think it should be taken so lightly. Have you ever done it?’
‘Go and look in my file. A lot of people have done it.’
‘Recreationally.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Can I talk in a certain way for a minute? Um, that sounds strange. I have been involved in this TCF business for a long time. Not so much now, but it was a good few years. I did hear things. So I’m not talking from personal experience but just from a feeling I’ve received from the things I’ve heard. If that makes sense to you. So: some of the users of TCF seemed to believe that there were different “levels” of use, if you like. They didn’t use that word. But recreational users were looked down on by some of the other users. I sometimes used to call them political users, but only to myself. I don’t think it’s quite right as a name. So those users, the political users, if you’ll allow that the name might be a bit misleading, looked down on the recreational users. There were more categories than that too, I think. But recreational use—people, some people, used to say that it’s not really TCF at all, that those users keep their eyes closed, metaphorically of course, that they didn’t really seek out anything, any fuller possibility. But more importantly, they came back unchanged. TCF should change you, the political users thought.’
‘What did Pen do?’
‘It’s safe to say he wasn’t interested in recreational TCF.’
‘You mean you weren’t interested in it.’
‘My police colleagues have that largely under control in any case. We’ve assessed that recreational TCF isn’t of any threat to—’
‘What did Pen do?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know exactly what he did. But he was in touch with a group of political TCF users, who had their own apparatus, and who had some ideas.’
‘They had some ideas.’
‘Yes. That’s what is dangerous. Ideas are very dangerous.’
‘Let me get this straight: what’s dangerous? TCF? Ideas? I’m not following you.’
‘Both! And the combination. You see? These people were flying off into the future full of ideas. They launched off, fizzing like bombs, looking for something to light their fuse, or I don’t know, looking for a fuse to light. The future is dangerous, and it has to be used carefully. It has to be used just right. And it’s valuable! There has been a lot of discussion within the Service in the last few years, about whether our duty is to protect not only the security of the present nation, but the security of the future. Well, security has to mean the future, doesn’t it? I mean if our nation is safe now but dissolves into anarchy the next minute—the future minute!—then what kind of security is that? Thirty years is a long time, but we hope that our nation, our way of life, our support from our allies and the stand we take against our enemies, we hope, I hope, that all that will be eternal. I hope you see what I mean? Oh, you’re a hippie of some kind, aren’t you, but still I hope you see what I mean? I’m not unsympathetic to hippies actually. I like love, too. And you do have some interesting clothing styles. That’s fine with me.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Was I going on?’
‘It’s okay.’
‘I do go on sometimes. It’s not the best trait for a security agent.’
‘Your secrets are safe with me. I just want to find Pen. And if I can’t find him, I want to know what’s happened to him.’
‘I’m not supposed to be here talking to you. I could get in trouble.’
‘I got that impression already. Why are you talking to me?’
‘I’m afraid… I’m afraid it might be my fault. Whatever has happened to him.’
Janet looked at him.
‘In some way. I mean, we put him in touch with the Fedorovians. I did. I thought he would be a good candidate. I did
it.’
‘Who are the Fedorovians?’
‘I liked him. Actually, it’s possible he would have ended up with some group like them anyway. That’s what made him such a good pick. He never mentioned them to you?’
‘No.’
‘I’m surprised how well he kept it secret. I think he became really one of them. But I liked Penwyn. He clearly sealed off a part of himself from everyone around him.’
‘You can’t hide needle marks.’
‘I’d like to help him. I also want to help you find him. I’m just not sure I’m allowed to and I’m not sure I have time… ’
‘Thank you.’
‘Oh. That’s my pleasure. I don’t know what I can do.’
‘I don’t either. You must have something, some way… ’
‘I thought the Fedorovians had burnt out. I’m sure they didn’t last long. They were pretty extreme in lots of ways. They were extremists. A couple of years, maximum—I don’t think they lasted any longer. Penwyn’s continued use, if that’s what he has been doing, I would have thought it was just an addiction thing.’
‘It was infrequent.’
‘Yes, that’s unusual. But maybe a slower kind of addiction. TCF isn’t really addictive, not like that. Maybe some deeper urge, some more profound feeling. I think he had a lot of slow, deep feelings. You’re his wife.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘His feelings were like a surging ocean sometimes—that’s what I thought about him. Swells of feeling. It’s not a bad thing, but they were always directed in destructive ways. I thought about him a lot, for a while. I became quite intimate with him. In my mind.’
‘Can you help?’
‘I would hate to think anything bad had happened to him. Even if I’m not to blame, I would hate that. I know we put him at risk, but it wasn’t a risk he wasn’t already prepared to take.’
‘What about the people involved? Are they still around?’
‘I could try to find out. Let me go and try to find out. They’re not our priority these days. They were considered a serious risk, but only for a brief time. Then we lost all trace of them. Let me try to find out.’
‘Do you want my phone number?’
‘Of course not. I know how to get in touch with you.’
Our Future is in the Air Page 6