News from Gardenia

by Robert Llewellyn

  Suddenly I didn’t feel safe. These charming people, obviously kind and without a hint of threatening behaviour, made me feel uneasy. Why did they want me to drink the tea?

  ‘Let me explain,’ said William. ‘ About eighteen kilometres above us is a solar kite; it’s about four hectares. It’s just a simple kite, held aloft by the jet stream, and its upper surface contains many billions of primo cells.’

  ‘Primo cells?’

  ‘Oh yes, sorry, a form of voltaic collector – it’s a gigantic solar array. A solar panel may be a better term for you. Do you understand that?’

  ‘Well, yes, I know what photovoltaic cells are, but not on a bloody great kite eighteen kilometres above the earth.’

  ‘Well, that’s what it is,’ said William.

  ‘Okay, I’ve read a paper suggesting such technology. I didn’t know it had been implemented,’ I said. I looked at my tea. It looked quite harmless, though very dark; I did consider asking for milk but thought they might be all vegan and holier than thou and then I’d have to hear about bloody cows and cruelty. It looked harmless but I still felt uneasy. Maybe the honey had some weird psychotropic drug in it.

  ‘Yes yes, please let me finish,’ said William. He stood firmly before me, his voice clear and calm.

  ‘So, the voltage coming down the tether, well, during daylight hours it’s very high, about 600 gigawatts.’

  ‘Down that puny line!’ I said. ‘600 gigs, surely not.’

  William nodded gravely. ‘Hence the blue light, visible even in bright sunlight. Well, we have noticed that as the line passes through certain cloud formations it um…Well, we have observed effects, anomalies if you like.’ William stopped. He glanced around at Halam. ‘Maybe I will have a chair if that’s okay, Halam.’

  ‘By all means,’ said Halam, who gently moved a chair into position. William sat down facing me. This was all getting very weird.

  ‘So, the area around a tether is kept clear – it can have a peculiar effect between 1,000 and about 5,000 metres above ground level. At ground level, obviously there is great danger from electrocution should you approach the tether mounting station, but that is well known and people stay well away.’

  ‘When was this installed?’ I asked. ‘How come I’ve heard nothing about it?’

  ‘No, you won’t have, because, well, because you’ve come through a fold.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘It’s so hard to explain. You are here, but you should, in the course of nature as we know it, not be here. At least, not in your living physical body. It is an unfortunate collection of events, a power surge due to strong sunlight and very high thin clouds, plus we imagine the weather conditions, when…where you started from.’

  I felt my eyebrows furrow; I couldn’t stop them. ‘I’m sorry, this is making no sense.’

  ‘Nor will it for some time I fear,’ said William. ‘The quickest way for me to explain is to quickly get, um, Grace…’ William turned swiftly to look at Grace who was leaning on the kitchen unit holding her own cup of tea. ‘…to tell you today’s date.’

  ‘It’s the sixteenth of May,’ said Grace. ‘Tuesday the sixteenth of May.’

  ‘I know that,’ I said.

  ‘That’s fascinating,’ said William. ‘It was the sixteenth of May when you got up this morning.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not a Tuesday, it’s a Friday.’

  The old man pursed his thin lips. ‘I’m sorry to sound shocking, Gavin, but it truly is a Tuesday. Here, where we are now. Tuesday May the sixteenth, twenty to eleven.’

  I couldn’t help glancing at my watch.

  ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘It’s the sixteenth of May, but I make it four forty five.’ I shook my wrist and listened to my watch – it was working.

  ‘No no,’ said William slightly curtly. ‘Not the time, the date. It is May, twenty-two eleven. The year is 2211.’

  I sat still for a moment. I felt normal; I could sense my body sitting on the simple wooden seat, in a sort of olde worlde farmhouse kitchen, in a wood in Berkshire. I knew I’d once driven nearby in a silver Audi TT. I was in a room with what looked like normal human beings, but things were steadily and relentlessly going out of whack.

  I simply didn’t believe anything I’d heard. I couldn’t quite understand why the people I’d just met would create such an elaborate hoax. There must be some other explanation.

  What they were saying was nonsense – I’d simply been knocked unconscious in the landing and this was some sort of fantasy I was having. Or I was dead and this was some sort of inexplicable heaven, not that I’d ever believed in any form of afterlife. I wanted to tell Beth, who did for some even more inexplicable reason believe in God and the afterlife and spiritual things; I wanted to admit to her that maybe she had been right. Maybe this William bloke was actually God and this was how I was perceiving the almighty.

  I didn’t feel alarmed because nothing I’d experienced was real. It couldn’t be. It was fairly bloody obvious I could not have flown into a weird-looking cloud near Didcot power station and emerged into clear blue sky two hundred years later.

  5

  For some time after I’d been informed of the date, there was much discussion among the people in the kitchen as to where I should stay. I didn’t pay much attention. I eventually took a risk and sipped the tea. It was a bit too sweet for me but it was delicious. It wasn’t tea as I know it, it was some kind of herbal stuff, the sort of thing Beth had boxes and boxes of. I’m a bit of a builders’ tea type of person, well, I was.

  I sighed quietly. If the weird herbal tea was spiked I may as well go with it, I was probably dead anyway.

  I looked around the room hoping to spot a phone, but there was nothing phone-like on view. I was about to ask when old man William turned to face me.

  ‘Gavin, what do you think?’

  ‘Sorry mate, I was miles away,’ I said. ‘Nice tea by the way.’

  ‘I have suggested you come to Goldacre Hall, the house I live in.’

  I shrugged, no point fighting against it. ‘Yeah, whatever’s good for you,’ I said. ‘I’ll try and sort things out. Really sorry to land on you like this; it wasn’t my plan.’

  ‘We quite understand, it’s all very distressing.’

  William was standing by the open door and beaming at me. I eventually got the message and stood up.

  ‘Thanks for the tea,’ I said to Grace. She gave me a smile, quite a nice smile.

  I set off through the dusk with William, following him along a narrow but well-kept path through quiet woodland until we emerged in the large field I’d landed in. The plane sat forlorn next to the thick hedge.

  ‘What a wonderful machine,’ said William. ‘Although it does look a little unsafe.’

  ‘It’s proved very reliable,’ I said, noting a familiar feeling I’d had before when people criticized my choice of aeroplane. I was a bit defensive. Get over it, the bloody thing works, I was thinking. ‘It’s clocked up over five hundred hours without a hitch.’

  William nodded; he was smiling but his eyes looked pained. He turned and pointed in a north-easterly direction. I looked up and there was the blue line, but it wasn’t quite as intensely blue as it had been. I rubbed my eyes – it just seemed too unreal to be there. I looked up again into the clear, steadily darkening sky.

  ‘If there is something huge at the end of the line, why can’t I see it?’

  ‘Oh, you can just about see it, on a very clear day. It is but a speck to the naked eye. It is gently skimming high, high above the earth.’

  I shielded my eyes and tried to stare beyond the thin wisps of high-level cloud. I could see nothing; the blue line just disappeared.

  ‘The old power station was indeed just over there,’ said William. ‘The tether station has been constructed on the old s
ite. The power station was demolished before I was born, but I have seen pictures of it. A large structure with a very tall chimney.’

  I grinned and shook my head. ‘I’m sorry if I don’t believe you when you say it was demolished before you were born. I mean, it’s there, somewhere, we just can’t see it from here. I saw it just before I went into the cloud.’

  ‘Mmm, when you went into the cloud. Tell me, was it generally a clear sky?’

  I nodded; there was something ominous in his accurate description.

  ‘And did you notice that the cloud cast no shadow on the ground?’

  Then I felt a rush of disquiet. How had the old man known that?

  ‘Yes, yes, I did notice that.’

  ‘I am so sorry, Gavin. I feel partly responsible for this. My father was part of the original group that designed and installed the tethers. I have spent many years studying their effects; we have often been troubled by some of the things they seem to do. As with most technologies there are side effects, things we could not imagine could possibly take place. I can only ask that you rest and take time to understand what has happened to you.’

  ‘What has happened to me?’

  ‘You are the unwitting victim of an anomaly; the fold in the curtain caused by the tether has allowed you through, that is really all I can tell you.’

  ‘Hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t buy this bull— nonsense.’

  William smiled and shook his head. ‘That is why I am suggesting rest and reflection. You are very welcome to stay with me. I live in a large house with many other people, but I am sure we can find space for you.’

  ‘You mean to tell me I can’t go? I can’t leave and return to my wife, my home, everything?’

  The old man dropped his head; I felt concerned for him. When he raised it there was a tear rolling down his cheek. ‘I am so sorry, Gavin. Goodness me, what a calamity. Something has to be done to stop this happening yet again.’

  The old man seemed so genuinely upset, and so utterly non-threatening, that I couldn’t stop myself slowly beginning to believe what I was hearing.

  ‘To stop what happening? Where am I really?’ I asked. I was beginning to feel a little nauseous. ‘How am I supposed to believe it’s 2211?’

  William put a gentle hand on my shoulder. ‘Please come with me.’

  So saying, he started to walk along the side of the field. I followed simply because I had nothing else to do. As we passed the plane I stood next to it for a moment.

  ‘If I could take off again, I could see where I am and I could get back home.’

  William turned. He nodded. ‘Let us see what we can arrange in the morning. I believe the machine needs considerable space in order to get airborne?’

  ‘A runway, yes, or at least a clear strip of ground with no huge trees at the far end.’

  ‘I am sure we can find a way,’ said William. ‘Let us decide in the morning. There are many people close by who would be happy to help, if for no other reason but to see a genuine flying machine in action.’

  I snorted a little but felt embarrassed – he was such a sweet old fellow. An old man standing in the beautiful early evening light talking about ‘genuine flying machines’ was so absurd it was comical. I scratched my head to try and cover my reaction, then I retrieved my iPad, phone, jacket and wallet from the cockpit and followed the old man.

  We walked in silence along the side of the field and through another narrow gate. On the other side of the thick hedge was a large orchard, row upon row of well-tended fruit trees with narrow tracks between each row. I noticed a rabbit scurry across our path, heading for a very well-tilled field with neat rows of vegetables to our right.

  ‘This is an amazing farm; is it yours?’

  ‘Mine?’

  ‘Oh, sorry, I mean, do you live here?’ I asked.

  ‘I do indeed,’ said the old man.

  ‘Rented is it?’

  ‘No, no, not rented,’ William said and smiled at me. ‘I have lived here most of my life and I’ve worked these fields most of my life too.’

  I was surprised; due to what William clearly knew about the tether I had assumed the man to be some kind of academic or high-level engineer.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I s’pose I assumed you were something other than a farmer.’

  William shot me a look, not hostile, more surprise.

  ‘Oh, I’m not a farmer, I just live here.’

  ‘Right, yeah, I’m with you,’ I said, feeling no better informed. ‘So whose farm is this?’

  ‘Well, dear me, where does one start? Let me see. It’s not a farm in any way you would probably understand it, and, well, we all own it.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ I said, ‘And who are “we”?’

  ‘Well, everyone, the commonwealth.’

  ‘What, the Queen?’

  ‘The Queen?’ He chuckled more this time, seeming baffled by the suggestion. ‘No, there’s no Queen. I’m sorry, it seems every answer I try to give you raises another hundred questions.’

  ‘So you don’t own it, the Queen doesn’t own it, the commonwealth do: who are they then?’

  William opened another sturdy gate at what looked to be the entrance to a garden. I followed him through.

  ‘I think you have to take in the information step by step. It really isn’t that complicated, but I dare say our time is very different to the world you know.’

  I followed William through the gate and into a well-tended garden. An old woman was sitting on a seat under an ancient apple tree, her head bowed as if she had nodded off to sleep.

  ‘Evening, Marga,’ said William. ‘We have a guest.’

  ‘How lovely,’ said the old woman, raising her head to look at me. ‘A very young guest, how delightful.’

  I smiled. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant being referred to as very young – being thirty-three years old didn’t feel young.

  ‘You are very welcome,’ said Marga, offering her hand to me. I shook it. Her hand was like a small bird, tiny and so delicate I could barely register it.

  ‘Gavin arrived by flying machine. He’s left it in the bow field,’ said William.

  ‘How very exciting!’ said Marga. ‘A flying machine?’

  ‘Oh it’s a wonderful thing; you must go and see it in the morning.’

  ‘How exciting,’ repeated the old lady. ‘I would love to hear all about it.’

  I considered the possibility that the old bird was a bit batty. Not knowing what a plane was didn’t seem to cause her any alarm at all.

  She gazed up at me with piercing and clearly intelligent eyes that didn’t look in the least bit batty. ‘I dare say you are tired and hungry. An evening meal is being prepared; I hope you will dine with us and then rest for as long as you wish.’

  I looked at my watch. It was seven thirty in the evening, the meeting was blown, I couldn’t ring and apologise due to having no signal, no one seemed to have a land line and I couldn’t even seem to send an email.

  ‘That would be great, but I am a little concerned about my schedule. I kind of need to get in touch with people. D’you have broadband here?’

  Marga looked puzzled and glanced at William, who looked equally nonplussed.

  ‘Broadband,’ I repeated. ‘Internet.’

  ‘Internet,’ said William. ‘Well, we have, not quite what you are talking about, but…’

  ‘Maybe I can use your connection on my iPad,’ I said, holding up the device.

  ‘Isn’t that gorgeous? Paula would love to see that – she loves the old gadgets,’ said Marga as she placed a delicate hand on my forearm. ‘She’s my middle daughter. A historian, she’s a lovely girl, but she wasn’t overly blessed in the looks department.’

  ‘Marga!’ scolded William. ‘She is a perfectly delightfu
l woman.’

  I smiled painfully; I didn’t want to be rude but the jolly chitchat seemed to have an undercurrent I found increasingly disturbing. Something bad really had happened, something calamitous, and they weren’t telling me the truth, well, not the whole truth. Everyone I was meeting seemed to know something and they were keeping this information from me.

  The old lady put her arm through mine and gently led me towards a large old Victorian-looking house at the far end of the garden. As we approached, I noticed the house didn’t look quite as I would have expected: it had some sort of slate-grey cladding on the walls. The roof, while the usual shape for a neo-Gothic house, was of a smooth material of a similar colour.

  It was old and familiar and yet weirdly new, and unrecognisable, like a house in a dream.

  6

  The interior of the old house was instantly familiar and reassuring, like my granny’s house. The faint smell of cooking with a gentle undertone of beeswax furniture polish was the first thing I noticed when we entered.

  The low lighting made the house seem snug and homely although the lighting system built into the ornate plaster ceiling was something I’d never seen before. It looked very tidy, with a beautiful table on one side of the entrance hall, on which stood a massive flower arrangement in a big pot. Above that was a painting of a group of people standing in a field – at least I thought it was a painting until it slowly dissolved and turned into another painting of a group of children in a field. It didn’t look like a digital hoarding you might see in a big city; it really looked like a painting, an oil painting on canvas.

  I walked with Marga towards a large door, opened it for her and she smiled gracefully at me. I was then shown into a very large brightly lit kitchen. Maybe a better description would be a canteen, but not an institutional eatery – it was far more homely than that – just a very big room containing a great many people.

  There were three long tables running down the centre of the room with loads of people already sitting and eating. It was lively and noisy; a few young children ran around at the far end of the room, but something I noticed immediately was that most of the people looked well over fifty.