Who Goes Home?

by Sylvia Waugh

  You can and will reset the clock before you leave the ship.

  Steven turned towards the wall where the door should be, but no door was in evidence. The door device was totally under the command of the Cube.

  ‘Don’t be so tiresome,’ he said angrily.

  Do your work, Sterekanda. The quicker you start, the sooner you’ll finish.

  The voice of the Cube had become parental: kindly in tone, but rigidly determined. Steven knew then that there was no point in further argument. If he wanted to leave the ship, he would have to do as he was bid.

  Adjusting the clock was easier this time. He remembered clearly how he had carried out the operation on the clock in York. And here there was the advantage of having the instrument directly under his hands.

  After thirty minutes he was able to turn to the cube and say, ‘The adjustment is complete.’

  From the cube, a ray beamed momentarily down on the face of the clock as if checking the accuracy of Steven’s statement. Ormingat, after two hundred and fifty uneventful years of space travel, was learning not to trust.

  ‘So what about Stella Dalrymple?’ said Steven.

  You must pay her a visit. Deal with her direct. Make sure that she ceases to believe the things the boy Tonitheen told her. Work on her mind.

  ‘And what about Javayl?’ said Steven. He merely meant, what should I tell my son about all of this? The communicator understood the question differently.

  Javayl comes with you of course. You come home together.

  CHAPTER 21

  * * *

  Eavesdropping

  Left alone in the workroom, Jacob moved into his father’s chair in front of the Brick. He was no expert in the use of it, but he knew enough of the fundamentals to be able to seek, find and follow. Steven changed the setting before leaving so that the screen showed an overview of Swains Lane. It was child’s play to zoom in and out, to drag the image to one side or the other. But Jacob was not content with any of that.

  You can watch for me. You can look after the Brick.

  Big deal!

  It was too simple a bribe.

  Jacob carefully considered the controls and decided to experiment. He found the whole of the British Isles, with all its coloured counties. Next he zoomed in on the city of York and its suburbs; then on to the estate to the north where the Gwynns lived, and finally right into the back garden from which the frog had so recently leapt.

  All the activity that had been in evidence before Steven changed the setting was still there. An ambulance and two fire engines had arrived, but it became evident that they were not needed. The water hydrant was turned off. Soon the only real activity was in the back garden. A small group was gathered around the spot where the pond had been. Jacob concluded that they must be investigators of some sort. Three other people, two men and a woman, stopped briefly in the garden before entering the house by the back door.

  Jacob deduced that these must be Mr and Mrs Gwynn and someone interested either in the explosive frog or in the whereabouts of their daughter. Perhaps both.

  He manipulated the controls hopefully and at last managed to get into the living room, where the Gwynns were talking to the man. It was frustrating that the Brick could not transmit any sound back to him. It was all very well being a fly on the wall, but not knowing what was being said definitely hindered the usefulness of the position.

  The older man went out of the room and a young policeman in uniform came in and sat down. The Gwynns soon left him sitting by himself, obviously on duty.

  The Brick could take Jacob no further and tell him no more. He looked at the policeman dozing uncomfortably on the upright chair he had either chosen or been invited to occupy. He yawned and almost fell asleep himself.

  Then, just after three o’clock, the screen flashed with sudden activity. The living-room door opened, the young policeman stood to attention, and in came the Gwynns. Jacob was instantly alert and attentive to the on-screen movements.

  He bent over the controls again and zoomed in on Alison Gwynn’s face. She looked happy. That could mean only one thing: Nesta was safe and had got in touch.

  ‘And what do you think you’re doing?’

  Jacob jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. Steven had come very quietly into the room, not wanting his footsteps to waken anyone else in the house. He came closer to the Brick and saw the picture on screen.

  ‘Why have you changed the view? Can you not carry out a simple instruction? Don’t you know what damage you can do? Get off my seat. Get out of my way.’

  Steven had practically run all the way from Swains Lane. He was out of breath and in a high state of irritation. ‘Eavesdropping!’ he said crossly. ‘Idle curiosity.’

  Then he stopped himself saying more as he realized that eavesdropping was now to be the order of the day. A difficult order to put into action, given the Brick’s lack of sound. He pulled a lever and said crossly, ‘I can’t listen to what I can’t hear.’

  Jacob watched the screen, where the picture suddenly had one word starkly imposed over it:

  IMPROVISE

  ‘How do I do that, mute object?’ said Steven irritably.

  USE SPEAKERS FROM ANOTHER SYSTEM

  Steven looked at his Earth computer on the other side of the room. It was equipped with two speakers plugged into the port that led to the modem.

  ‘It can’t be done,’ he said. ‘The systems are totally incompatible.’

  LIP-READ

  ‘I wouldn’t know how.’

  Jacob looked from his father to the screen and then back. ‘Just watch, Dad,’ he said. ‘Stop arguing and watch. I have made sense of what I’ve seen. You might not be able to lip-read but you can tell from people’s faces what they’re thinking – and you can watch where they go and what they do.’

  The communicator seemed to have digested this advice. It seized on the most useful of Jacob’s words:

  WATCH

  The letters appeared on the screen for just a few seconds and then disappeared to return Steven to the view of the Gwynns’ living room. Once again the Gwynns left the policeman sitting alone.

  ‘I’ll split the screen,’ said Steven, half to himself and half to his son, who had been tacitly restored to favour.

  ‘To follow the Gwynns?’ said Jacob.

  ‘Not necessary,’ said Steven, ‘and not helpful because we are stuck with not being able to hear what they say. No. I want to keep my eye on what is happening outside.’

  Jacob looked down at his watch and said, stifling a yawn, ‘It’s twenty past four, Dad. There’ll be nothing to see for a few more hours.’

  Steven nevertheless took a look at the back garden. A strong spotlight was trained on the pond. Two workers were busy there, sifting soil and passing small objects to a man sitting cross-legged on a groundsheet. A zoom in on their faces showed that they were all bored and that the objects were probably mind-numbingly insignificant.

  For the next three hours, nothing happened at all. Jacob sat in the armchair and fell asleep. Steven stayed at his post and dozed, coming fully awake every time he began to slip sideways.

  At seven-thirty Jacob woke up, hurried over to the camp stool, and said, ‘Has anything happened? Have I missed anything? Where are the Gwynns?’

  ‘They’re probably fast asleep in bed.’

  ‘How do you know?’ said Jacob.

  ‘They haven’t left the house,’ said Steven. ‘No one has entered the house. Yet they were happy enough. My guess is that Nesta is on her way home and they know exactly when she is due to arrive. The worry has been lifted. They’re bound to be exhausted. So they’ll have gone to sleep.’

  When daylight came, there was activity once more. The Gwynns came into the living room, looking drained and certainly not as well rested as Steven had thought they would be. When they went to the kitchen, the young constable followed them, and all three took a silent look out at the back garden, where the workers were still excavating as carefully as archaeo
logists on some ancient dig.

  By nine-thirty the Gwynns were clearly ready for the day, but neither they nor the constable left the house.

  ‘Jacob?’ Lydia called up the stairs. ‘Are you not ready for church yet? We don’t want to be late.’

  She had not called her son down to breakfast because she had some idea that he had been up late the night before, messing about with that computer.

  ‘Do I have to go?’ said Jacob to his father.

  ‘I think so,’ said Steven. ‘We can talk about it in depth another time, but for now just go.’

  Jacob’s thoughts had been far less philosophical than his father’s answer gave him credit for. He had simply wanted to play hooky so as not to miss the excitement.

  So Steven was alone when the older man of the night before returned to the Gwynns’. There was a short conversation between the three of them, but Steven had no idea what it might be about.

  By the time Jacob returned, another policeman had taken over from the constable who had worked the nightshift, and the older man had gone.

  ‘I was wishing I could lip-read,’ said Steven. ‘There was no guessing what they were saying.’

  ‘The older man must be a senior policeman, plain clothes,’ said Jacob, ‘and they were obviously discussing something about Nesta’s return.’

  ‘Yes,’ drawled Steven sarcastically.

  ‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? What else would they want to talk about?’

  CHAPTER 22

  * * *

  York Station

  Just after half past twelve, there was more activity. The older man, who by now had been accorded the rank of inspector by Steven and Jacob, returned in a police car. Then he accompanied the Gwynns to their own car and got in the back seat.

  ‘Where can they be going?’ said Jacob.

  ‘To the police station? To help the police with their enquiries?’

  ‘But then they would be in the police car, not their own,’ Jacob objected.

  The inspector’s car also set off, just after the Gwynns’.

  Steven bent over the Brick and manipulated the buttons till he had the trace viewer set up. It would not be as difficult as directing a spaceship all the way from Edinburgh to Casselton, but it required dexterity to be able to follow the cars and keep them centre screen. They headed down into York, past the Museum Gardens and over the Lendal Bridge.

  ‘Not the police station,’ said Steven. ‘The railway station. Now this will take a bit of doing. When they’ve parked the car, we’ll have to follow them inside. That’s clearly where they must be going.’

  ‘Why?’ said Jacob. ‘Why would they want to go there?’

  ‘Either to catch a train,’ said Steven, ‘or to meet a train.’

  ‘They’re meeting a train with Nesta on it,’ said Jacob, suddenly inspired. ‘So let’s not follow them to the car park. Let’s get a probe directly into the station and see what trains are due to arrive.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ said his father. ‘Good thinking.’

  The screen now showed the station’s main hall: shops, restaurants, waiting rooms, all presided over by the electronic arrivals and departures board.

  ‘Which train?’ said Jacob. Several were listed on the board, some with platform numbers, some without. The board was constantly changing.

  Without a word, Steven split the screen so that the top left-hand corner had a square with a fixed focus on the indicator board.

  ‘You keep watching that,’ he said to his son, ‘and I’ll concentrate on the entrance. That way I can pick them up and follow them on to the platform, and you can check where the train is coming from.’

  He had just finished speaking when the Gwynns arrived, followed closely by the inspector, who spoke to them and then was clearly dismissed as Matthew and Alison strode well in front of him on to the platform.

  ‘Platform three,’ said Steven.

  ‘That’s the London train,’ said Jacob, looking at the notice board. ‘Coming from Edinburgh. It’s running late.’

  He was getting tired of watching the board so conscientiously. ‘We can switch that off now, can’t we?’ he said. ‘Then we can both watch the Gwynns more easily.’

  ‘Not yet,’ said his father. ‘Keep watching till the train arrives.’

  ‘There’ll be nothing more to see,’ said Jacob.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Steven impatiently. ‘Keep watching anyway.’

  He would really have preferred to be alone in the room at this moment. What he was doing demanded total concentration.

  After a short while, for some reason Steven could not fathom, the Gwynns left the platform where they had been standing and hurried across the bridge, the inspector following them. To keep them within range of the trace required all the deftness of touch that Steven had developed with years of experience.

  ‘Go on, then,’ he said as he managed to get a view of the other side of the bridge. ‘Tell me why they did that.’

  ‘Announcement explaining that the train they are waiting for will be arriving at a different platform,’ said Jacob.

  ‘You know that?’

  ‘I know that,’ said Jacob. ‘Quite simple, really. It just came up on the notice board.’

  The train came in and drew to a halt. Steven pressed the button to cancel the split screen. Now father and son were both eagerly watching the passengers alighting. There were not very many.

  One was a girl in a red coat. She waved like mad at Matthew and Alison, and ran towards them.

  ‘That’s it,’ said Jacob, relieved to see the family reunited. He was pleased to see Nesta safe and well. But now the inspector seemed to be talking to them all rather insistently.

  ‘They need protection,’ said Jacob.

  ‘Not possible,’ his father replied. ‘We don’t know what is being said and we don’t know exactly what we would be protecting them from.’

  ‘They could be in trouble,’ said Jacob anxiously. ‘I don’t like the look of that inspector or whatever he is.’

  ‘Athelerane will have to manage that herself. She can. She is the stronger of that duo.’

  ‘That’s not fair on Matthew,’ said Jacob, ignoring the name his father had just given to Matthew’s wife, but knowing exactly whom he meant.

  ‘Not really,’ said Steven. ‘Matthew has greater wisdom. Alison has the talent for mind-fencing. In this situation it will work better than the Brick would. We can only hope she hasn’t lost it yet.’

  ‘Lost it?’ said Jacob.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Steven. ‘Now that she is no longer Ormingatrig, the talent will go.’

  He turned his attention to the train once more, passengers getting on, doors closing. The trace scoured the length of the platform.

  ‘Ah!’ he said. ‘There’s something you’ve missed.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘All of the travellers who got off the train are heading for the exit – except one.’

  ‘What is he doing?’ asked Jacob.

  ‘She. Exactly what we are doing,’ said Steven. ‘She is watching the Gwynns, or maybe their daughter.’

  Steven zoomed in on a woman still standing on the platform, some distance from the Gwynns but clearly looking at them. She was dressed in a brown tweed coat and had a scarf flung over her shoulders. As her face came into sharper focus, Steven saw the coppery hair, the amber eyes and the concerned expression of someone he instantly recognized.

  This was a face he had been shown in the ship, the face of someone he had been told to ‘deal with’. It was with no sense of triumph that he pronounced her name. There was alarm in his voice.

  ‘Stella Dalrymple! What does she know of the Gwynns? Why is she here in York?’

  ‘What do we do now?’ said Jacob. He had heard of Stella. He knew she was connected with the Derwents in Belthorp. This was the woman who had caused all the trouble by using the wrong words at the wrong time – ‘Starlight, perhaps.’ If she also knew about Nesta, she was clearly one of the most d
angerous contacts on the planet.

  ‘We could ignore it,’ said his father, knowing that Jacob would want it to go in the report and only too well aware of what ‘over-reporting’ had done the last time.

  He took his view back to the Gwynns and was satisfied to see the inspector turn his back on them and walk quickly away. Athelerane had clearly been able to do what was required.

  ‘I might not have been clever enough to observe the other passenger,’ said Steven thoughtfully. ‘The whole thing could be more bother than it’s worth.’

  ‘We don’t know that,’ said Jacob. ‘You were told to report. So you must report. What I meant was – do we carry on watching the Gwynns? Or do we watch Mrs Dalrymple? And what use will it all be anyway?’

  ‘Small cogs in a big machine,’ said Steven. ‘That’s what we are. The one thing we do not need to know is the answer to the question “What use?” But you’re right to wonder what we should do next.’

  ‘Ask the Brick,’ said Jacob, nodding towards the lever that would permit them to speak to the instrument.

  ‘No need, Javayl ban,’ said Steven with a sigh. ‘I know the answer. We must go to our own spaceship and talk to the communicator. The Brick, after all, has bricklike qualities that render it of limited use.’

  ‘It’s Sunday,’ said Jacob anxiously. ‘Dinner will be ready soon.’

  ‘Then our visit to the ship will have to wait,’ said Steven, and immediately thought that the delay was not such a bad idea.

  As if on cue, a voice from downstairs called, ‘Are you two going to stay up there all day? Dinner’s on the table. Come down now!’

  It was unusual for Lydia to sound impatient, but mealtimes were important to her. All of the Bradwells, from the oldest to the youngest, knew that. So Steven and Jacob hurried down to dinner.

  Steven stopped briefly to turn off the screen, catching just one last glimpse of the Gwynn family as they left the station.

  ‘We will see them again,’ said Jacob.