‘Computer, why can you not identify our current location?’
‘Current location unidentifiable.’
‘Why?’
‘Rephrase.’
I gritted my teeth.
‘Why is the current location unidentifiable?’
‘There is no current location.’
‘Why is the current date unidentifiable?’
‘There is no current date.’
‘Computer, what is outside?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Define nothing.’
Now there was a very long pause.
‘The absence of anything.’
‘Is that what is outside? The absence of anything? Confirm.’
An even longer pause.
‘Confirmed.’
Right. We were out of here. This was definitely not a place to be.
‘No cause for alarm, Eddie,’ I said, resetting the coordinates for St Mary’s as fast as I could go. We’ll soon have you home. You’ll get the traditional bollocking from Dr Foster for having got yourself stabbed and then you really will be one of us.’
I threw the final switch. ‘Off we go. Computer, initiate jump.’
Nothing happened.
‘Computer, initiate jump.’
Nothing happened.
Oh … shit.
‘I think,’ said Eddie, struggling to sit up, ‘that I should have a look.’
No, he shouldn’t. He should remain on the floor, conserving his strength. On second thoughts, what for? A longer and more lingering death? And I was clueless. I had no idea what had happened. Or where we were. The giant brain of Professor Penrose might just have some answers.
I helped him up and got him into a chair. We studied the read-outs, which didn’t take long. Everything was either blank or read zero.
He said, quietly, ‘Give me a minute, Max, will you?’ and sat thoughtfully sipping his tea.
I stowed the pepper spray and stun gun. The cause of all the trouble, my little round mirror, lay on the floor. One or both of us had obviously trodden on it, because it was cracked.
Seven years bad luck.
I should live so long.
‘The mirror crack’d from side to side;
“The curse is come upon me,” cried
The Lady of Shalott,’ intoned Professor Penrose, which I could well have done without.
I sat down again and stared at the console. Nothing had changed.
I’m not religious. On assignments I tend to place my faith in any local gods hanging around, Osiris, Odin, Athena, Marduk, whoever, because there’s no point in tempting fate. At any other time I just tend to drop everything in the lap of a vaguely believed-in god of historians, with instructions to sort everything out as soon as possible, so I don’t know what made me think of that bit in the Bible: And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.
From the King James version, obviously. Only Christians could replace the majesty and awe of the King James Bible with something as dreary and uninspiring as a directive from the English Egg Marketing Board and then wonder why no one takes them seriously any more.
I pulled myself together. I could hear the usual background electronic hum of the pod, but otherwise everything was horribly silent.
Eddie stirred. ‘Well, let’s put together what we know, shall we? We don’t know where we are because, according to out instruments, we’re not anywhere. We’re nowhere. We don’t know when and, according to our instruments, no time is passing outside. We don’t know what’s out there because, again, according to our instruments, there’s nothing out there. This is fascinating, Max. Absolutely fascinating.’
He was as bad as us historians. Faced with impending catastrophe, an historian will always pause in the headlong dash to safety and think – Oh, that’s interesting. The Spartans didn’t always tie up their hair, after all. Sometimes, of course, that’s the last thing they do think. Professor Penrose was obviously made of The Right Stuff. Historian stuff.
‘In what way, Professor?’
‘Well, look at us. We’re inside this little box – pod, rather, and we’re all right. We can move and speak, so obviously time is passing for us. In here, everything is as it should be. It’s out there that’s the problem.’
We had problems in here too, actually. For a start, Eddie was turning very pale. He waved me away. ‘No, no. I’m fine. Just thinking,’ and stared thoughtfully at the screen.
And secondly, not immediately, but soon, it would start to get very stuffy inside the pod. We don’t carry oxygen. Why would we? We’re supposed to be able to open the bloody door and step outside.
I sat quietly because Eddie was thinking. And because sitting quietly conserves oxygen. Of which we would soon have very little.
Just for something to do, I reset the coordinates. Again, the jump failed.
‘I don’t understand this, Professor. Everything is working. It’s just – not working.’
He put his hands over mine.
‘I’ve had an idea. Let’s not try to get back to St Mary’s. Let’s go back to Cambridge. We’ll be quite safe there, so long as we don’t open the door. Let’s keep it simple, Max. Just throw it into reverse gear and go back to Cambridge.’
‘Excellent idea, Professor.’