I shrieked, ‘No. Abort. Abort.’
I yanked the man off the professor and shoved him towards the door, all the time screaming, ‘Abort. Computer, abort extraction,’ and completely forgetting the authorisation code.
The door was open. We can’t jump with the door open. We shouldn’t be able to jump with the door open. And we certainly didn’t want emergency extraction. We were about to be ripped out of Cambridge at nose-bleeding speed …
I heaved the man out of the door – although actually, I don’t think he could get out fast enough. None of his friends had followed him in and here he was, alone in this talking box … he took to his heels.
I slapped the manual switch. The door closed cutting off the noise of the angry citizenry of Cambridge baying for our blood, albeit from a safe distance.
‘Professor, hold on tight! Brace for impact!’
Too late.
The world went black.
Chapter Three
I rolled over. Every bone in my body hurt. I’d done this before and it still wasn’t any fun. That’s why emergency extraction is for emergencies only.
I remembered I had a passenger.
‘Professor Penrose?’
He stirred.
‘Lie still, Professor. Don’t try to get up just yet. They’ll open the door in a minute and we’ll get you up to Sick Bay.’
I was wasting my breath.
‘My goodness me,’ he said, delightedly. ‘That was exciting. Can we do it again?’
‘Are you injured at all, Professor?’
‘I don’t believe so. A little winded, of course. It’s been a long time since I had to exert myself to that extent.’
He seemed in remarkably good nick for an elderly academic who had been pursued through the muddy streets of Cambridge by a baying mob before being hurled through time and space like something in a welly whanging contest. I scanned him anxiously. I didn’t want him having a heart attack.
I helped him sit and, suddenly wondering what was taking Chief Farrell so long to get to us, turned to look at the screen.
Never have the words now we’re in trouble been so appropriate.
‘Oh dear,’ said the professor. ‘This doesn’t look good.’
He was right. The view from the screen definitely didn’t look good at all.
That wasn’t what he was talking about. He held up his hand, which was red with blood.
And the day just got worse.
‘It’s OK, Professor, I’m trained for this. Can you lie back down on the floor for me? Does anything hurt? Is there any pain?’
‘No. Although now you mention it, I do feel a little giddy. It must be the excitement.’
It was probably blood loss. Somehow, he’d been stabbed. High up on his left shoulder. He hadn’t noticed in the excitement and I hadn’t noticed because of his dark clothing. He wasn’t gushing, but he had a narrow, deep wound from which blood oozed unspectacularly but steadily. I bound him up, elevated his feet, and, at his request, made him some tea.
‘It’s like donating blood, Max. They always give you a cup of tea.’
I sat beside him on the floor. ‘I have to hand it to you, Eddie. You’re bleeding all over the floor and clutching your tea like a pro. We’ll definitely have to make you an honorary member of St Mary’s.’
He chuckled.
‘I’m just going to leave you for a moment and sort out a few things with the controls.’
A splendidly ambiguous sentence that could mean absolutely anything. I really didn’t like the look of this. We might have been better off in Cambridge.
The screen showed nothing. And I really mean nothing. Not black, not white, not electronic snow. The screen showed nothing. I checked the controls. There was no fault with the equipment inside or the cameras outside. The screen showed nothing because there was nothing to show.
I looked at the chronometer. Baffled. It read zero. I watched for a few seconds, but the read-out was unchanging. I flicked it on and off, but the result was the same. According to the chronometer, no time was passing. The read-out said zero and zero it remained.
I checked the outside sensor readings for atmosphere, temperature, all the usual stuff.
Nothing.
Again, all the instruments were working perfectly. There was simply nothing for them to read. There was nothing out there. Nothing at all. We were surrounded by nothing.
‘What is it, Max? What’s wrong?’
I couldn’t explain because I didn’t know. My instinct was to say something comforting, but that wasn’t fair on him. He was an intelligent man – a leader in his field. And a good man to have around in a scrap as well.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know, Eddie. Computer – verify date and location.’
The reply was usually instantaneous, but now there was a very definite time lag of some four or five seconds.
‘Unverifiable.’
‘Computer, please confirm date and location of previous jump.’
‘Cambridge, 1668.’
‘Computer, confirm date and location of current jump.’
‘Unable to comply.’
‘Computer, why?
‘Specify.’
Bloody thing.