by Iain Pears
‘In that case,’ Sylvia said, ‘I think we had better find out. Emily? Would you take Mr More to Wales to see Kendred?’
*
Jack and Emily waited on the street outside until an ancient transporter, rusty and noisy, drew up alongside them and then lumbered through the streets at an agonisingly slow pace. For the first half hour Emily kept an eye on the other vehicles passing them, while Jack periodically wound down the windows to gaze up into the sky.
‘I think we are in the clear,’ he said after a while. ‘Had there been anyone, they would have picked us up the moment we walked out of the door.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
Her leg occasionally brushed against his. It was hard to concentrate on anything else.
‘You’re not one of the elite, are you?’ she said. ‘You know too much about surveillance, don’t mind sleeping on benches, weren’t shocked when you first arrived at the Retreat. You also seem to know nothing about science. So who are you?’
‘Do you really want to know?’
‘No secrets. They are bad things to have between friends.’
‘I used to be in the police. Undercover. I became contaminated, and rather than go through the cleansing process needed to keep my position, I resigned.’
‘Background?’
‘Level five intelligence. I was put down low as there is a trace of disobedience in my make-up. One of my grandparents was executed for disobedience, and it will be another two generations before my strain is considered safe.’
‘What do you mean by contaminated?’
‘It is the difficulty of sending people out into the world of the masses. You end up liking the people you are supposed to be monitoring; you come to understand, sympathise, make excuses for them. In my case, I was in a unit charged with monitoring renegade groups and assessing the level of threat they posed. I decided they posed no threat, but that wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear. I was told to have my opinions changed, I refused and – there we are. End of story. I ended up on the island of Mull, watching out for people stealing office pens. The pay’s good, though.’
‘How could you have done something like that?’
‘How can you keep order in a disorderly world? You are the one who knows history, how many people have been killed over the centuries, how much inefficiency and waste there has been. Don’t you think it is worthwhile to try and contain the natural tendency of people to violence?’
‘What about this man Oldmanter’s natural tendency to violence?’
‘He acts within the law.’
‘That’s easy if you write the law.’
She had moved so she was no longer touching him.
*
They arrived late at night, after walking through wasteland, scrub and then hills, ever higher. Emily went easily and with determination, even though she was carrying a heavy pack. Jack struggled to keep up. He was fit but had never been called on to walk such distances before. Emily also drained his energies. She was perfectly polite but cold. He found that strangely disturbing. He wanted her to like him.
So he was glad, but also apprehensive when she came the next morning into the cold room where he had been sleeping. ‘Thought I heard you. Are you all right?’
He nodded.
‘You look exhausted. You don’t get enough exercise.’
‘I know.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said suddenly. ‘I was rude yesterday. I like what I see of you. I’m not so wild about what I know of you. That’s all.’
‘I suppose that is reasonable.’
‘Here,’ she said. ‘Drink this. It’ll help.’
He slowly and painfully sat up. Every muscle in his body ached. It annoyed him, especially as she seemed perfectly fine.
‘Old remedy,’ she said. ‘Try it. It’ll give you a buzz for a while, but it’s good for the nerves. I’ll come back in half an hour to see how you’re doing.’
*
When he had woken properly and dressed, he found her sitting outside in the cold morning air with a mug of something hot in her hand. It was brilliantly sunny for once, even though there was a trace of frost on the ground, and she had her back against a whitewashed wall, eyes closed and head tilted back. She looked very peaceful, and even happy. When she heard him, she opened her eyes and smiled.
‘Now you look a little more human,’ she said. ‘Come and meet Kendred.’
She led him down a corridor to the eating room, which was empty except for an old, square, muscular man with a thick neck and bald head who was, incongruously, wearing a striped apron.
‘This is Kendred,’ Emily said as he stretched out his hand in greeting. ‘He is the moralist and cook here. Also a chemist in a previous incarnation.’
Jack raised an eyebrow.
‘All I was ever allowed to do was follow orders,’ he said. ‘I wanted to investigate all sorts of things but could never get permission. It was why scientific discovery has almost stopped, in my opinion. It’s controlled by people who are only interested in confirming their own work. Here I am an irrelevant outcast, but I can at least do as I please.
‘My cooking,’ he continued, ‘is only mediocre, as you will discover. But as I can think and peel vegetables at the same time, it makes me highly efficient.’
‘Think about what?’
‘How to do things, whether it is right to do things. For example, at the moment there is uncertainty about whether we should hand you over to the authorities, as we are legally obliged to do.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘Did Emily not tell you? There is an arrest warrant out for you. Armed and dangerous, terrorism, the usual sort of thing. You look fairly harmless to me, but we would get a tasty reward for handing you over, and might be able to buy immunity for the Retreat. You must see how that would be tempting, especially at the moment. Another two thousand people were sent to internment camps yesterday.’
‘And you decide what to do?’
‘It is my task to pose the questions, not to answer them, fortunately.’
‘Assuming you don’t have me arrested, how can you help me?’
‘I know the tests for assessing the age of objects. Including paper. I should be able to tell you how old this document of yours really is, more or less. Now, I think we may be short of time, so if you would like to hand it over, I will begin work. I won’t damage it in any way, I assure you.’
Jack hesitated, then reached inside the bag and took out the thin package. He watched as the old man studied it, sniffed it cautiously, his head held to one side almost as though he was listening to it, then opened it.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ he said with delight. ‘Just look at this! How interesting! This will take some work. I’ve never seen anything like it before.’ He looked up at Jack. ‘Tsou?’
Jack nodded.
‘Handwritten, do you see? I cannot imagine why anyone would do such a thing. It must have taken years.’
‘Can you decipher it?’
‘Not me. You need a very specialised mathematician for that.’
He shuffled out of the room, and Jack noticed that there was a slightly more energetic air to his movements.
‘You’ve made his day,’ Emily said with a smile. ‘He tries to fit in, but he just loves messing around with test tubes.’
She led him back outside, where he took a deep appreciative breath. ‘Corrupted, eh?’ she said.
‘I’m afraid so,’ he said. ‘I try to spend as much time outside as I can. I am considered very peculiar because of it.’
‘Then let us pass the time by walking.’
They strolled round an area planted out with vegetables, the awnings drawn over to protect them from the frost. The Retreat was a ramshackle assembly of buildings, but very much more appealing than the one where Emily lived. In its way – with the vegetation growing everywhere, the cracked old windows open to let in air, the crumbling stone that had been found and stuck together in a bizarre r
andom pattern to make the walls – it was strangely peaceful.
‘So what are you doing?’ he asked. ‘Sitting in Retreats, reading old books, waiting to be rounded up. You are level one. You had the best of everything on offer in this world.’
‘It didn’t suit me. I didn’t want it. I wanted something I could not have, no matter how great my privileges.’
‘What was that?’
‘Freedom to do nothing, if I wished. To say whatever I wanted without consequence. To think how I pleased. As she must be like me in many ways, I don’t know how my mother survived without going mad.’
‘It is possible that she did. But what’s the point of freedom? Do you think that you can change anything?’
‘Of course not. We are waiting.’
‘For what?’
‘Until the world changes on its own. That is the one truth of history. Everything ends. Civilisations, empires, however powerful and strong. They all end, sooner or later. When it does we will be there, with all the old ideas and thoughts, preserved and ready to blossom. We’re not subversives. We do nothing to bring it about, although some are more impatient. Unfortunately the authorities do not bother to make the distinction. For someone like Oldmanter, merely believing society will collapse is a crime in itself.’
‘It will be a long wait.’
‘Yes. Many generations. Unless someone finds a short cut.’ She stopped for a moment before continuing. ‘Sooner or later the machines will stop, your ideas will fail, and men will have to start again. Meanwhile we are content to survive and remember.’
‘Remember what?’
‘Everything. We all remember things. Each person has a task, of memorising some important, vital, vulnerable field of knowledge. To keep them alive and safe. Each generation passes it on to the next. Ideas of music and poetry, of freedom and happiness. History, philosophy, even stories. Everything that has been written about and thought about. They will have their chance again, one day. We keep it safe, as we are sure that one day the depositories and libraries will be destroyed. Many have been already. Only what is in the minds of men will survive, passed on by word of mouth.’
‘How does your interest in history fit into that?’
‘Anything which is forbidden is important, and the study of the past has been banned for a century, except under licence. They do not want anyone to think there might be an alternative to the way things are.’
‘Quite right. Why study the follies of the past?’
‘It teaches you to recognise weakness. Would a truly confident, strong society worry about such things? Would it persecute people who were so obviously wrong? All these institutions and governments overlapping in their authority will fight each other for supremacy sooner or later. It is always the case and it will be again. The great edifice of authority is convinced it cannot err. It will destroy itself as a result. That is what history teaches us. Thanks to my mother, it may be that the past will become important again.’
She sat down in the shade of a high wall, mixed of crumbling stone and brick like a patchwork, and gestured for him to join her. He didn’t know how to reply, so said nothing. She was deluded, of course, but he found her certainty impressive nonetheless. It was so strange to have someone patiently waiting for something which, if it ever happened, would only take place long after they were dead.
‘What if you are wrong?’
‘Then we would have tried.’
‘You know they may have decided to wipe you out entirely this time?’
‘Of course. If not this time, then next time. We have known it was coming for many years. It won’t succeed, any more than past campaigns did. We have prepared, as you see. We will vanish from sight, hide away and wait. When they lose interest again, we will emerge once more. Are they really so fragile a few hundred thousand like me can bring their world to its knees? I wish we could.’
‘That is why they pursue you.’
‘Come along. Let’s get to work.’
‘Doing what?’
She smiled. ‘Digging carrots, of course. Do you think we offer hospitality for free?’
*
A few hours later Emily took a break, leaving a red-faced and aching Jack to lean on his shovel and get his breath back, then returned looking pleased with herself.
‘We have managed to establish contact with Dr Hanslip for you. We thought it might be useful.’
Jack followed her to the main building and politely took off the boots he had borrowed so that he would not get mud all over the brilliantly shiny stone floor of the entrance. Then he surreptitiously paused by the big fireplace for a moment to warm his hands.
Emily pointed accusingly and laughed. ‘Weak and feeble man!’ she said, but with a tone of what sounded almost like affection in her voice.
When he was ready, she led him along a dark corridor to another room. ‘You, no doubt, would sneer if I told you this was our communications centre,’ she said, as she opened the door and gestured for him to go in.
‘Perhaps,’ he said.
There was nothing in it except a chair, a desk and couple of antique machines that looked as though they had been salvaged from a scrap heap.
‘Well, it is,’ she said. ‘So sneer away.’
‘What’s that?’ he said, pointing at what was on the desk.
‘That is a telephone. We discovered long ago that the whole of Britain – the whole world, probably – was covered in copper cables before technology made them redundant. It was too expensive to dig them up, so they were left underground and forgotten. We patiently mapped out where they were and worked out which ones were still serviceable and how to use them. They’re not monitored, because they haven’t been used for so long. Fortunately, at the moment we can use more conventional means. While the telephone has a romantic air to it, it doesn’t actually work very well.’
She laughed as she saw the relief crossing his face, then pulled out a perfectly ordinary communicator and handed it to him.
‘There you are.’
‘Hello?’ Jack said tentatively once he had taken it from her.
‘Yes. More?’ came the crackly but distinct voice of Hanslip at the other end. ‘Where are you?’
‘It would perhaps be better if I did not say,’ Jack replied. ‘I am being pursued by Oldmanter, I believe.’
‘I am aware of that. We have been surrounded up here and warrants issued for my arrest.’
‘What charges?’
‘Does it matter? He is more impatient than I thought. We cannot possibly hold out for long if he decides to attack.’
‘Has there been any fighting?’
‘Not yet. Just threats, but that won’t last. I need that data, Mr More. It is the only defence which might offer some protection.’
‘In that case, I have good news. I’ve found it.’
There was a sigh of relief from the other end.
‘I am having it examined at the moment. It was disguised exceptionally well. If I can figure out how it was done, I might be able to find out who helped to do it—’
‘Don’t bother.’
‘Why not?’
‘You will discover it really is as old as it looks. It pains me to say it, but I am afraid Angela was correct. The phenomenon we have discovered is indeed time travel, not transit.’
‘So what do you want me to do with it now?’
‘If it wasn’t for the fact that my life and freedom depended on it, I’d tell you to stick it on a fire.’
‘Do you want me to bring it to you?’
‘You’d never make it through Oldmanter’s forces. Keep it safe and hidden. I will come to you. Just make absolutely certain that it does not fall into Oldmanter’s hands. That is the most important thing of all. If he uses it …’
‘Why would he, if it’s as dangerous as you say?’
‘Orthodoxy says it is impossible.’
‘We have evidence.’
‘Do we? The more evidence we produce, the more he will take it a
s proof only of fraud. I can’t blame him. I did the same.’
Then he was gone.
‘Well, well. After all that.’
‘What?’ Emily asked; she had discreetly stood outside during the conversation.
‘He nearly told me just to burn it.’
‘So what are we meant to do with it?’
‘Hide it, keep it safe.’ He stretched and looked out of the window. ‘There are places I can go where no one will find me, and you will not have to be associated with whatever crime Old-manter decides I have committed.’
She nodded. ‘It’s a bit late to set off now. Stay tonight and leave in the morning. We can take you part of the way, if you wish.’
49
When they were all prepared to leave and make their way to Willdon, the little group stood at the edge of the camp to make their farewells. Rosalind and Antros – who had offered to go as hostage in exchange for Catherine – were to be accompanied by Pamarchon, who said he wanted to make sure they were safe on the journey.
‘Well,’ he said to Jay, who had come to wish them luck, ‘when you arrived I did not think that you would play such an important part in my life,’ he said. ‘I congratulate you on your intervention. It showed learning and wisdom in equal measure.’
‘Thank you, but I now think it is a lunatic scheme. It can’t possibly work.’
‘It is worth trying. From my point of view I gain nothing if Gontal becomes the new Lord. So I will throw the dice. I have naught to lose except my life, which I value little, but if I win, I win …’
‘Willdon.’
‘No! No, young student, a thousand times no! That is worth even less to me. I was going to say that I win back my name and my liberty, except that now I want a prize more valuable still.’
‘Do you really mean to tell me you wouldn’t grasp Willdon in both hands if you could?’
‘I can think of nothing I want less. It is beautiful, but nothing to me. I never had happiness there, nor do I have fond memories of it. If there was someone – good, reliable, true – who would take it from me, I would hand it over readily and be the happiest man in the world.’ He smiled. ‘You will not believe me, I am sure. So I will say no more. I will return probably tomorrow afternoon. Then I will have to prepare myself for whatever is to come.’